


A Done Deal

by Sinsational_Sinnabon



Series: Sans Signature [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, F/M, Fucked Up Little Love Story, Male Monster Heat, Minor Character Death, Monster Heat, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, ectodong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinsational_Sinnabon/pseuds/Sinsational_Sinnabon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After running away from home and falling into the Underground, Reader finds herself the prisoner of two skeleton brothers, who intend to sell her soul to Asgore for a good cut. There has to be something that she can offer that could set her free. As usual for her - things can never seem to go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late For a Very Important Date With Death

**Author's Note:**

> Wo Ho look at this! I am starting another Undertale fic! This one will have multiple chapters, and center around the Underfell universe. It may not seem like it, but this /is/ a story that will have a happy ending. 
> 
> But not before a shitload of pain, miscommunication, ectodongs, and other things that are a little bit fucked up.
> 
> Enjoy the ride guys!
> 
> Will update Tuesdays and Fridays. Not sure how long it will be - estimating 8-10 chapters

The cold wind hit you mercilessly as the large stone doors slammed shut against your back. It was… snowing?

All things considered, things had not been going your way today. Early this morning, your father had come into the kitchen smelling of whisky and cheap perfume. Which would be startling, you thought, if it didn’t happen two or three times a week. That’s just how your family was. Your mother was gone - ran off shortly after you could talk. Your father was permanently drunk and had a bad habit of fucking anything that looked his way. Luckily he stayed strictly within his age range, which left you safe. Not to say you were never hurt; he liked to throw things after the first few shots or so. Twenty two years passed in this way. This morning was no different, except this time you’d decided you had had enough. One curse filled rant and several broken plates later, you had run away from home and found yourself at the base of Mt Ebbot. After that, you’d promptly gotten lost in the woods, and fallen down a fucked up sort of rabbit hole that Alice could only dream of.

Oh, but it didn’t end there - not even close.

Once you had woken up, you found yourself face to face with… a talking flower? That took the cake. Made it even more bewildering when it promptly tried to kill you. Vines had wrapped their way around your legs, and while you were being held nice and still (not for lack of trying), a spray of sharp-tipped thorns flew at you. Hundreds of tiny cuts stung on your arms and legs. Luckily you had recalled the presence of your pocket knife, which you cut yourself free with and proceeded to wield at the angry weed. At knifepoint, he had told you that you’d fallen into the Underground, where the monster race had been imprisoned for centuries. While most of them had started out friendly at one point or another, ages of entrapment had made everyone a little… on edge when it came to the subject of Humans.

That seemed to be the mantra of this strange new world - _Kill or Be Killed._ So far every creature you’d come across had been nothing but hostile and dangerous.

Which put you where you currently stood, after facing off against a matronly, but slightly off kilter goat monster whom you had managed to escape. She had seemed alright at first, but after talk of all the other humans she had cared for and “lost”... well, you decided not to take any chances. She’d cut you off at the exit, spitting warnings of death and destruction, with a few fireballs peppered in. You now sported several burns, and your jacket had taken the brunt of the damage. It did nothing to stop the bitter winds now.

The trees were tightly packed on either side of you, their bark a dark blue from growing underground, and barren from the endless winter. It made the path ahead the obvious choice. The snow was clear and untouched, a good sign. A sense of stillness pervaded the area, filling you with uneasiness.

The snow crunched softly underfoot as you started forward. Something deep in your chest surged with bravery.

‘There should be a way out somewhere up ahead.’ you tried to convince yourself.

‘There just has to be’. You pretended the next shiver that worked its way up your spine was from the cold.

 

* * *

 

 You managed not to encounter anyone else for a while after that. Good news since it meant a reprieve from the monsters; Bad news since that also meant a lack of other humans around.

What you wouldn’t give for a snowboarder to speed by and pick you up; bring you to a lodge and tell you everything up until now had been a cold induced hallucination. Maybe this was one of those fancy themed parks with convincing costumes, and the next person you encountered would rip off their head and laugh. You would welcome a fever dream even, brought on by falling unconscious in the forest. Anything to explain away the existence of monsters and danger and your seemingly inescapable fate of freezing to death underneath a mountain. That was if nothing killed you first.

If you ignored the events that had gotten you here, you might almost describe your walk along the snowy path as ‘peaceful’.

You heard your next encounter before you saw them.

At first you thought you were hearing things - and the low shaky breathing in discordance with your own was some trick of the ice and stone. But as you got closer, it got louder; more… desperate? You were certain you could place the sound with some past experience, but it escaped you.

You crossed a bridge, glancing nervously up at the spiked gate erected across it, resembling a set of bars. It was a tight fit, but you managed to squeeze through.

The breathing got louder, and you thought you could recognize a curse muttered underneath. The owner was male - maybe a human?! You half jogged the last couple of steps, spurned on with the prospect of freedom.

As soon as you stepped into the next clearing, a flash of black and red caught your attention, stark against the white of the snow. Set off to one side of the area was a small wooden sentry station. Hunched over it was at first glance a humanoid figure, dressed in a black hooded jacket with red accents. His head rested on the windowsill of the opening, an elbow propping the rest of him up while he struggled with something behind the half wall.

Stepping closer, you felt your face flush.

‘oh.’

_‘Oh.’_

That’s where you could place that sound. Now that you were halfway across the clearing, two things made themselves painfully obvious.

One: the owner of the sentry station was not, by any means, human. You hadn’t been a great student back in high school, but you recognized the basic anatomy of a skeleton when you saw one, and you were fairly sure that they weren’t supposed to move without flesh.

Two: this particular skeleton before you was very much alive, breathing, and

undeniably,

unmistakably,

jerking off.

 

* * *

 

Eyes wide, you found yourself frozen in place, staring in shock in such a lewd display is broad daylight. Not only that, but the fact that this guy was definitely not human.

‘Shit. He’s a monster.’

Recalling the violent reactions of all the monsters you’d met until now, you took an unsteady step back, ready to pivot and run for your life.

SNAP!

The skeletons head shot up at the sound of the stick breaking underfoot, and you found yourself under a piercing red gaze.

You were correct in your assumption that the monster in front of you was, for the most part, a close copy of a human skeleton. His head was a slightly off white skull, eyes deep set sockets empty except for a pinprick of red in the right. In the place of his nose was a triangular crevice, and his mouth seemed to be set in a permanent grimace.

A low growl echoed from behind his clenched teeth; a murderous glint reflected in his eye.

You’d been caught.


	2. Negotiations and Ketchup Stains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys! I never thought I would get such an awesome reaction! Over 400 hits! 
> 
> Since I love you guys so much, and because I have the self control of a thirsty college kid, here is chapter 2!
> 
> What is a buffer? We just don't know.

A shrill cry tore from your lips as you pivoted to run. Your mind raced with all the possible gruesome ways that you would be killed.

 

Dismembered,

 

Burned,

 

Suffocated,

 

Eaten? Did monsters eat humans?

 

Distracted by panic and your train of horrified thought, you ran blindly. You were almost to the edge of the clearing when you suddenly froze. Mid-Step, like you left the stove on and recalled it halfway to the store. It wasn’t as if you wanted to stop - in fact, your brain was still running overtime, bellowing at your muscles to get the hell out of dodge. No, this was not your doing.  You cursed inwardly, willing your body to do something. Anything!

 

It was like gravity had increased one-hundred fold, that place deep in your chest burning strangely. Senses in overdrive, you could hear a chair scrape back, wooden legs against the floor of the sentry station. The crisp smell of fresh snow and damp stone far far overhead. The soft rustle of fabric as your attacker stood. Slowly, lazily, the soft crunching of shoes in snow neared your immobile form. Not being able to see the skeleton coming towards you was torturous, your mind bringing up the quick glance you had gotten of his face.

 

You shuddered as hot breath brushed against the back of your neck, causing the small hairs there to stand at attention. His body heat could be felt from where he was standing, probably inches away from you. A sweat drop trickled its way down your back, the salt stinging the scratches Flowey had left.

 

“* **h u m a n.  d o n’ t  y o u  k n o w  h o w  t o  g r e e t  a  n e w  p a l?”**

 

His voice was deep, resonating deep in your core. You swallowed thickly, your tongue a lead weight in your mouth. You prayed it would be over quickly and painlessly. You wanted to grovel; to beg for your life, but whether from magic or fear, you stayed silent.

 

**“*t u r n  a r o u n d.”**

 

It was an order, not a request. Unbidden, you felt yourself lift slightly off of the ground and spin around to come face to face with the skeleton man. He was just as close as you’d expected, the tassels on his jacket flicking your throat lightly as you felt yourself touch the ground again. You stared for a minute; finally getting to take a good long look at your attacker.

 

* * *

 

 

Or what you could of him anyway. He had looked a lot smaller from far off. Now that he was right in front of you you could appreciate how… BIG he was. Your eyes were level with his collarbone, and with no other place to look, you nervously memorized every detail of his vertebra - much thicker than your average humans’. From this distance, you could notice the small red stain on his white shirt.

 

‘ketchup, I hope’ (You were pretty sure it wasn’t)

 

The gravity holding you down lightened a bit, and you immediately craned your head up to see his face.

 

You regretted that move.

 

Bottomless sockets stared you down, one an empty pit, the other still pulsing with a bright red glow, illuminating your face. That was creepy as fuck. More terrifying still was his grin, wide and maniacal. From here you could clearly see that each tooth was tapered off into a sharp point. One was coated in a gold covering, colored a rusty orange by the light of his pupil.

 

Chuckling deeply, he raised a skeletal hand and rested it casually on the junction of your neck and shoulder, pressing lightly into your jugular vein. Even though he had barely walked a few feet, he was short of breath. Although you presumed that could have been due to his… prior activities as well.

 

“*you picked a really bad time to come crashing through here, pal.” He growled out. “*i was kind of busy.”

 

Yep. Walking in on personal time confirmed. Your throat finally unclenched and you stammered out what was meant to be an apology, and what probably sounded more like an unintelligible mess.

 

The skeleton tilted his head slightly, the soft flesh of your neck under his thumb giving a bit as he pressed down thoughtfully. You felt the sharp tip break the skin and a hot trail of blood flow down your collarbone.

 

“*red is definitely your color kiddo”

 

As menacing as he looked, his eyes were slightly unfocused, and you could tell that his mind wasn’t 100% on the task at hand. That meant he was likely to not waste a lot of time. Breath speeding up, the enormity of your situation hit you like a truck going 80 on the highway. You were going to die right here, right now; at the hands of the satanic cousin of a halloween display.

 

He let out a short breath, stepping close enough to press slightly against you. His hand drifted from your neck to grip your upper arm painfully. That was going to bruise.

 

“*i’m sure paps wouldn’t mind if i… roughed you up a bit before delivering you to asgore; after all, he said _alive_ , not _unharmed_. it’s only fair after that little interruption.”

 

“Let me go!”

 

With what energy you could muster, you struggled in his grasp. Shirt shifting enough to reveal a strip of skin, you suddenly felt something hot and heavy press against your lower stomach. Chancing a glance downward, you flushed with embarrassment. At the groin area of his shorts was a very noticeable bulge, radiating enough heat so that you could easily feel it through the thin fabric. If you looked really hard (which admittedly you were) you could even discern a faint red glow.

 

Your mind was racing a mile a minute, clawing at any chance of survival, and before you could really even think about what you were saying, you piped up.

 

“H-Hey! What if w-we made some sort of trade?”

 

He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear his mind, and met your eyes with narrowed eye sockets.

 

“*such as?”

 

His interest was piqued. So far this human was far feistier than the others he’d captured.

 

You had a short but volatile inner battle as your mouth hung open slightly; waiting for a command.

 

_‘What the hell - you are NOT doing what I think you are doing!’_

 

_‘Oh yes I am! I would like to survive thank you!’_

 

_‘You don’t know WHAT he has behind those stupid adidas shorts! Would you like to get fucked to death instead?’_

 

_‘........’_

 

_‘........’_

 

_‘Jeez. You, I? really are a freak. Go ahead… I hope this works’_

 

* * *

 

 

A pointed cough brought you back.

 

“*well? what’s your offer? Throw me a _bone_ here.”

 

At a better time the obvious play on words might have made you chuckle, but currently you were bargaining for your life and slightly preoccupied.

 

“T-That’s the plan actually. It’s obvious that you would rather be finishing what you started behind your hut over there than having to deal with me.”

 

You had no idea if this was true or not, but you wagered the guess in the off chance that it would save your ass. The edges of his smile twitched downward, morphing it into an annoyed sort of expression. You balked - had you read him wrong?

 

Just as quickly, it settled back into the cocky, casual, slightly homicidal grin that you were used to.

 

“*yeah, and? get to the _point_ ; before i do.” His other hand came up and slowly grabbed the side of your head, four fingers splayed through your hair; the thumb pressed threateningly into the delicate skin under your chin. Gulp.

 

“How about I help you out with...that,” You flicked your eyes down at his arousal. “And you let me pass by here without hurting me?”

 

The silence stretched by. The skeleton was immobile, giving no indication that he had even heard you. Had you fucked up? Why was he looking at you like that?

 

Finally, he blinked, face morphing into a manic grin with wild eyes filled with hunger and raw lust.

 

**“* d e a l.”**


	3. Putting Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Skele smut is a go! I hope I did an okay job with this. *sweats* 
> 
> Again, thank you everyone for your comments and kudos! You guys are what keep me going!

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, and you internally berated yourself for making what was likely the last bad decision you would ever make. The part of you that had argued earlier was silently screaming in a mixture of fear and despair.

 

‘No one smiles like that and means well.’ 

 

‘One... two... three’ - you busied yourself with locating all the “ketchup” stains on his shirt; anything to avoid meeting his eyes. His hand left the side of your face, the movement making you jolt slightly. It entered your field of vision and wiped off a small bit of blood (your blood, you noted) on his shirt. Well that answers that question. Not ketchup.

 

He shifted slightly, and you instinctively screwed your eyes shut, trembling slightly. Yes, you had agreed to do this; but actually faced with the inevitability had you questioning your courage. You felt something warm and smooth, with a slightly chalky texture against your neck; Opening your eyes a sliver informed you that it was the side of his skull. 

 

“Wha-?” 

 

The words died on your lips - mind going absolutely numb when something hot, wet, and unbelievably  _ long _ slathed a burning path from below your collarbone to just below your ear. ‘His tongue?? He has a tongue!?’ A low growl vibrated against your shoulder. 

 

“*you taste good,  _ pet _ . maybe if you behave, you might even enjoy this.” 

 

Now, there was a smarter part of you that knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that this situation was bad news. But a smaller part, a more primal part, was already reacting to your attackers advances. You could feel your body getting slightly warm; beginning to tremor with something that wasn’t fear, wasn’t stress. It was… anticipation. 

 

‘No. I’m not going to enjoy this. He’s not even human!’

 

You took another glance down to re-convince yourself, shuddering as he continued to leisurely make paths up and down your neck with that tongue of his, occasionally scraping you with a sharp fang, eliciting small shudders.

 

‘This is a…. survival tactic. Yeah. And I’m just confused by stress. Right.’

 

“Ah!” You let out a squeak when his hand abruptly let go of your arm and dropped to your ass, holding you steady while he ground up against you needily. A trembling hand reached forward to grip lightly at his sleeve, your hips starting to match his rhythm. 

 

‘Yeah right. Freak.’

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ ‘* bite, kill, blood, FUCK, taste, bite, FUCK, mate, mark, FUCK’ _

 

‘* ….what am i doing?‘

 

‘* this is a human…. i’m supposed to capture the human’ 

 

_ ‘* hot, good, taste, blood, FUCK, mate’ _

 

‘* but i need this…. i need her.’

 

_ ‘* FUCK HER’ _

 

_ ‘* …. _ everything is so hazy…. what was I supposed to do again?’

 

_ ‘* FUCK HER  _ **_NOW_ ** _ ’ _

 

‘* that sounds right…. right?

 

‘*  **_NOW_** ’

 

‘* …..’

 

‘* …..’

 

‘* …..’

 

‘* Paps is gonna be so mad at me’

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The air crackled with energy, you could feel it on your skin, making every hair stand straight up. You tried to take a breath and for a second air wouldn’t come, panic flooding your body. Your stomach twisted violently and you were cold; excruciatingly cold. 

 

And then you weren't. Air was back, you were still cold, but regular cold. Everything was fine; considering the circumstances of course. Your back pressed uncomfortably against the wooden buildi-

 

‘Wait. Wasn’t I just over there?’ 

 

Disoriented and still slightly dizzy, you pushed the skeleton man back a bit to look at your surroundings. He grumbled and pulled away, a red flash all you got see of his tongue as he slipped it back behind his teeth. 

 

As you thought, you were about 50 feet away from where you’d been standing - now pinned against the side of the sentry station. It was obvious that your captor had other priorities on his mind than your sudden location shift as he fumbled with the button on your jeans. You thought you heard him curse under his breath, and couldn’t help but laugh at the normalcy of the scene. Taking offense to your laughter, his red eye flicked up to meet yours. He was frowning.

 

“* those. off. now.” He growled the order.

 

Oh yeah, maybe you shouldn’t piss him off. Your freezing fingers struggled with the cold metal. You noticed him shaking slightly, breathing hard and uneven. It made you a bit nervous, seeing him in such a desperate state. The button finally popped free and you started shimmying them downwards. 

 

“* too slow.”

 

‘Shit.’

 

He impatiently yanked them the rest of the way down. You felt his magic lift you again and securely hold you up against the wall while he kicked your pants to the side. The wood was slightly rough, but luckily your shirt was still mostly intact, if not damp with nervous sweat and blood. You shivered as the winter wind bit at your exposed skin, left in only your jacket, shirt and underwear. 

 

Still entirely clothed, the skeleton shuffled forward, easily pressing himself between your thighs and resting them on his hips. You could feel him trembling noticeably now, his eye blurred and hazy, his sockets half lidded. He was messing with something between and you debated on looking would make it better or worse.

 

Curiosity killed the cat.

 

…. but satisfaction brought it back.

 

You looked down, and were intrigued, yet relieved at what you saw. His dick was certainly not human, but it also wasn’t the spiked torture instrument you had worked it up to be in your mind. It was bright red, glowed, and was slightly transparent, with a smooth, almost jelly- like texture. While it wasn’t terribly long, it was girthy - you couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. 

 

He stroked it lazily, although he looked rock hard enough to not really need to. A boney hand ran up your thigh and hooked on the crotch of your underwear, pulling it aside. Blushing, you refused to make eye contact. You were fucking soaking wet, all evidence of your shame on display. 

 

‘Please please please don’t notice.’

 

He did.

 

Tense, you felt him run a finger up and down your folds before slipping it inside you, inciting a slight gasp. He smiled at that. Pumping in and out a few times, he relished in the small sounds he was drawing from your lips. He added another, scissoring them to prepare you for his thickness. A small trail of drool escaped down the side of your mouth and dripped on your already-ruined shirt.

 

“* what a dirty little human. you’re actually liking this! freak, already dripping and i haven’t even touched you! luckily for you i need this, badly.”

 

You could tell; his cock was twitching and he was eyeing you hungrily - his predatory look making you even wetter. Without warning, he slipped his fingers out and stepped closer, lining his fleshy head up with your entrance. You felt it press insistently, a deep groan escaping him. He went agonizingly slowly, pushing in inch by inch; filling you up deliciously. Feeling yourself stretch uncomfortably, you squirmed against him, trying to back away.

 

“I-It’s too much! I don’t think I can- mmph!”

 

Your mouth was suddenly filled with a couple thick phalanges, probing your tongue. He shushed you roughly. Realizing you could slightly taste your juices on them, you flushed. He continued forcing himself inside painfully, causing you to cry out around his fingers until you felt the fabric of his shorts against your inner thighs. 

 

“* fuck yes. you’re so damn tight kid” He whispered almost reverently, his sockets screwed shut. His breath was labored as he struggled to compose himself. He was hot inside you, unbearably so, and your body was screaming for him to move; to create some sort of friction and relief. Hardly realizing it, your hips started barely rocking, betraying your impatience. He chuckled, and a quiet thunk sounded beside you as his skull rested against the wall.

 

“* j-just gimme a second.’ You whined quietly in response.

 

A couple more shaky breaths and finally, slowly, he started to move; lengthy deep thrusts that took him almost out and then roughly pistoned all the way back in, hitting some part of you deep inside that was pain on the precipice of pleasure. 

 

His fingers in your mouth stopped you from talking, but it also meant you had no way of muffling the embarrassing sounds that were spilling lewdly from your lips. There was no doubt in your mind that he had planned that. Sadistic fuck.

 

After a couple minutes he seemed to have found his rhythm, rutting against you with a faster, more insistent pace. Scalding breaths ghosted past your cheek; from here you could hear him speak - a low murmur full of lust that fueled your own arousal. It was mainly garbled nonsense, peppered with curse words and empty threats. The magic that helped hold you up flickered a few times, although with him this close to you there was no way you were going anywhere.  

 

Your hands found purchase on the open sides of his jacket, gripping him like a lifeline while you were overwhelmed with sensation. As much as you hated to admit it, you were enjoying this  _ very _ much. Why had you been so scared again? His boney hand brushed aside your shirt and jacket, exposing your shoulder to the cold air.

 

Shooting pain bloomed across your neck; a strangled cry echoing through the clearing. 

 

‘FUCK that hurt! What the hell!? Did he just-?’

 

Feeling his searing tongue lick your wounds confirmed your suspicion. He had just turned your shoulder into his personal pin cushion, and was now using it as a quick snack. You were so preoccupied with the blood streaming down your skin that you almost didn’t notice his pace getting erratic, his hand digging painfully into your ass as he pushed himself to the hilt as he spilled his seed inside you. Like everything else about this damn skeleton, his jizz was the equivalent of fucking lava, and you mewled your displeasure.

 

It was so hot, and there was so  _ much _ ! Even with him still sheathed inside you, you could feel it escaping and dripping down your thighs. The two of you stayed that way for a minute, him shivering slightly with the aftershock. Abruptly, you felt his cock dissipate, leaving you feeling strangely empty. Magic?

 

Stepping away, he let you fall unceremoniously to the snow, paying you no mind as he readjusted his clothing. You couldn’t help but look up at him; currently a sweaty disheveled mess. His stark white teeth were coated with your blood, and you noted that instead of his one red pupil, he now sported a white pinprick in each socket. He looked almost… embarrassed? Noticing your stare, he frowned and huffed.

 

“* well, what are ya waiting for? a deal’s a deal.”

 

Oh! Had you really almost forgotten the entire reason you had agreed to screw this guy in the first place? You sat on the ground, overstimulated and still a bit starstruck, uncomfortably aware of his cum still seeping out of you onto the snow. 

 

He prodded you with a sneaker. 

 

“* go on. get outta here. i don’t wanna be seen with a disgusting human, ya hear?” 

 

His touch finally broke the spell. Grabbing your pants from the ground (filthy), you scrambled to your feet and dashed away as quick as you could, meeting his eyes briefly as you beat a quick exit. For a second, you feared he would chase you, but soon he was out of sight and the path behind you was silent. 

 

After you were sure you were alone, you let yourself crumple to the ground at the base of a tree. What adrenaline had been fueling you had expired long ago, and your neck burned excruciatingly. You didn’t want to see it, positive that it looked even worse than it felt. 

 

Your limbs were jelly. Everything about you was filthy; covered in blood, sweat, and stained with bright red cum. Lastly, you were sore as fucking hell.

  
But at least you were free. 


	4. Doggone Determined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no resistance when it comes to finish and then posting chapters right away. So screw the posting schedule. 
> 
> Whoever guessed at the appearance of Papyrus was correctamundo! No /bones/ about it! ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Of course your little reprieve couldn’t last forever - you still had to find a way out of this creepy place. Wincing as the now dried blood flaked off your skin, you pushed your way to your feet.

 

“Alright. Stuff is gone, clothes are wrecked, dignity entirely smashed - at least it can’t get any worse right?” Rolling your eyes, you posed your question to the dark expanse far above your head. Where oh where would you be without your brilliant wit and dry humor?

 

‘Dead probably.’

 

Acknowledging the truth of the statement with a huff, you started along the path again with a slow gait. One foot in front of the other.

 

Right...

 

Left...

 

Right...

 

Left…

 

It felt like your head was filled with thick cotton, and you could practically feel your stomach eating away at itself. How long had you been down here? A couple days? A week? There seemed to be a light cycle down here, but you had no way of knowing if it matched the one above ground.

 

It felt like forever.

 

You found yourself taking frequent breaks. Every so often you would just fall to your behind in the snow, ready to commit to freezing to death and no one ever being the wiser to how you’d gone.

 

It was during one of these lapses in determination that you ran into your next problem. You were cocooned in a snow drift, eyes drifting open and closed as you pretended that you were somewhere warm. The snow even served to numb your shoulder.

 

Your face pulled into a grimace as a shadow eclipsed your sunlight. How were you supposed to pretend to be on a desert island if you couldn’t even get any sun? You groaned in annoyance at the intrusion.

 

“HUMAN! YOU DARE TO IGNORE THE GREAT AND POWERFUL PAPYRUS?”

 

Eyes snapped open as you were yanked to your feet by your hurt arm, and then further up until you were dangling a couple feet in the air. You let out a shrill yelp in pain and surprise, which was promptly cut off as a large gloved hand easily encompassed the lower half of your face to shut you up.

 

If the first skeleton had been terrifying, than this one was the culmination of your deepest nightmares. He was taller, lankier, but had a commanding presence that you couldn’t help but cower to. His eyes were black pits, and his grin was comprised of jagged crags of bone sticking out at various angles. His gloves and boots were a matching red, and leather by the feel of the one against your mouth. A black steel breastplate, black pants, and a blood red scarf completed his imposing ensemble.

 

In short, imagine if jack the ripper and jack skellington had a baby, and then send it for an extended stay in the bowels of hell.

 

“IT SEEMS THAT MY USELESS BROTHER HAS FAILED TO CAPTURE YOU, SO ONCE AGAIN, THE DUTY FALLS TO ME!”

 

So the other skeleton was his brother. Figures.

 

“The Great And Powerful Papyrus”, as you assumed his name to be, gave you a quick once over with narrowed eyes and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

 

“BY THE LOOK AND SMELL OF YOU, HOWEVER, IT IS APPARENT THAT YOU AND SANS HAVE ALREADY…. MET.”

 

By now you were sure your face resembled a overripe tomato. You couldn’t smell _that_ bad, could you? Wait - getting captured here! You tried to shove any embarrassment back into the recesses of your mind and work on thinking of a way out of here.

 

One look at Papyrus and you were positive your earlier methods would not apply. Sans (that seemed to be his brothers name) had almost freakin killed you, so you gave yourself some slack for not jumping into bed with another monster. Maybe he would be open to some dedicated community service? Money (not that you had any)? Either way, haggling did not seem to be on his list of things to do as he transferred you under one of his arms and started marching off. His arm bones dug into your side painfully, but squirming was out of the question; they might as well have been steel beams.

 

“Hey, Papyrus-”

 

Now that his glove was off of your mouth, you tried to get his attention. You could still talk your way out of this right? By his stoic reaction, it was like you had never opened your lips.

 

The rest of the walk continued in this way, with you trying to catch his eye and him resolutely ignoring you. As a small town came into view, you quit trying, utterly dejected.

 

At one point, this town had had the potential to be a welcoming and homey place. There was a banner at the entrance, handpainted with christmas lights and crude letters spelling out “Snowdin”. It was tattered and hung limply off of its posts. The cute wooden houses all had bars nailed across their windows and looked in disrepair. The only establishment that even looked somewhat functional was a long low building- probably a restaurant of some sort. Lights flickered from inside, accompanied by the mouthwatering smell of food.

 

Your stomach complained loudly.

 

Unfortunately you passed right on by the bar and come to a stop outside of a squat wooden shed beside a two story house. Your captor struggled briefly to pull a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He had to duck to enter; easily clearing the doorframe.

 

Once inside you were dumped on the freezing floor while he re-locked the door behind him. You wished he would say something. Finally, he acknowledged you whimpering on the ground. His eyes were devoid of any comforting emotion; his glance similar to how a cat looks at doomed prey.

 

“UNDYNE IS AWAY ON BUSINESS FOR ANOTHER TWO WEEKS. YOU WILL BE KEPT HERE UNTIL SHE CAN COLLECT YOU.”

 

The door jingled from the outside and opened with a creak.

 

“* hey paps, I heard you from the house. what’s up?”

 

It was the shorter brother again; the row of punctures on your neck tingling with the memory. He appeared to have cleaned himself up after your “meeting” and now was sporting a clean shirt beneath his trademark jacket. White pinpricks suddenly spotted you and he froze imperceptibly, wide grin forced.

 

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL “WHAT’S UP” SANS. I MANAGED TO CAPTURE THE HUMAN THAT _SOMEHOW_ GOT PAST YOU. I CAN’T SAY I’M SURPRISED.”

 

You didn’t think it was possible for such a menacing monster to look so cowed. His brother was easily two feet taller than him, and was giving him such a severe look you almost felt sorry for him.

 

“* heh. i guess they gave me a large _radius_.” He tapped his forearm for emphasis.

 

Almost.

 

Papyrus did not look amused. Sans chuckled lamely and took a step towards the door.

 

“* i-if you have this handled, i think i’ll just go-”

 

“ YOU AREN’T GETTING OUT OF THIS SANS. WE WILL DISCUSS YOUR ...INADEQUACY LATER.”

 

Taking that as his cue to leave, the skeleton quickly left the room and locked the door behind him. Once again, you were alone with the taller brother. He approached you and you flinched as he knelt down before you. Even on his knees, he towered above you.

 

“YOU MAY HAVE OUTSMARTED MY IDIOT BROTHER, BUT I, THE MOST MAGNIFICENT AND MALICIOUS PAPYRUS, HAVE OUT JAPED YOU!”

 

He may be terrifying, but he had a hell of an ego problem.

 

Reaching into his pocket again, he pulled out a thick strap of leather and fastened it around your neck. It was worn, like it had been used by several others before you. You didn’t want to think about what had happened to them. Once he adjusted it to be uncomfortably tight, he grasped something on the floor behind you that you felt something attach. Heavy jangling told you that it was a chain, bolted firmly to one point of the shed wall.

 

Pleased with his work, Papyrus stood and dusted off the knees of his pants. Captured by monsters, locked in a shed, and now freaking collared and chained to the wall. Could this get anymore horror-movie cliché?

 

With one last scathing glance at you, the tall skeleton left. The telltale thunk of the lock sounded your fate. Trapped. Shivering against the floor, you finally succumbed to your drained muscles’ urge to rest. It didn’t take long for you to drift off into a fitful uneasy sleep.


	5. Stressed Out Boney Burrito

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more story-centric chapter. We find out a bit more about Sans's condition, and get a bit of insight into the two brothers relationship. 
> 
> I'm on a writing binge, so chapter 6 should come fairly soon - and that one is sure to get spicy~
> 
> Thank's for reading!

While your body tried to sleep off the day's events, your mind wouldn’t stop dwelling on what had happened earlier today. Well… one situation in particular. You just couldn’t seem to shake off your encounter with Sans. His red eyes seemed to be burned into the back of your mind, and you could still feel where his solid hands had gripped you. It had been a bargain, a wager; but you couldn’t deny that some part of you had unabashedly enjoyed it. Completely by coincidence, Sans had played into your deepest fantasies - ones that you swore to never mention to another soul. You  _ liked _ being pinned down and dominated - prey falling to the stronger predator. You replayed the feeling of his teeth on your skin as your hands drifted between your legs, exhaling shakily when you brushed against your slit; you were already soaked. 

 

‘Shit.’

 

Your eyes snapped open and the sensation of the freezing cold floor against your skin jolted you back to reality. Glancing south, you realized what you had been doing and yanked your offending hand out of your underwear. There was no way you had just done that! Blushing, you looked around and thanked every living star that no one was around to see you. Morning had come, it seemed, and light was pouring through the small window on one of the far walls. Some smaller varieties of birds whom had made the underground their home were warbling out a tune to welcome the new day. 

 

You took time to inspect your surroundings. You were in a shed, it seemed; poorly insulated but sturdy enough. There was a mattress jammed in the far corner, which your back readily complained about not noticing until just now. Next to it was a couple newspapers (oh  _ hell _ no), and a dog bowl filled with… something. 

 

After shuffling over for a quick inspection, you found the yellow plastic bowl filled with cold french fries. Honestly, you were hungry enough that you might’ve eaten anything that might’ve been in there. It took no time at all for you to shovel the couple handfuls of stale fries into your mouth. They tasted like the best food you had ever eaten, and you even imagined your body tingling a bit - no wait, that was real. 

 

You looked suspiciously at the last fry, lingering in your hand. Poison? 

 

If it were, you rationalized, you wouldn’t be still alive. In fact, you felt worlds better than when you woke up. Looking at your shoulder, it even seemed like the bite marks had healed overnight. Where gaping holes were before there were now only faint red marks.

 

Interesting…

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans the Skeleton woke up the same as usual, with loud pounding on his door and a splitting headache. 

 

“SANS! GET UP! YOU HAVE SENTRY DUTY TO GET TO!”

 

Groaning, he rolled over in bed. His face was flushed and his sheets soaked with sweat. Yet another day in the life of a monster “in Season”.

 

“* paps please don’t make me go to work like this!” 

 

His eye flared red painfully, expelling wisps of magic and dripping small red gobs of magic residue. If he had ears, he was sure they would be ringing with how hard his soul was thrumming against his ribs.

 

The door to his room burst open. Welp, there goes another lock. Papyrus stood imposingly in the doorway, already dressed for a day's work as head of the royal guard. Eye sockets narrowed, he took in Sans’s weak state and scoffed. 

 

“IF YOU ARE NOT SERIOUSLY INJURED, THERE IS NO REASON WHY I SHOULD ALLOW YOU TO PUT OFF YOUR DUTIES TO THE KING.”

 

He ripped the tangled sheets off of the mattress, dragging the smaller skeleton with them. The bundle landed with a heavy thunk on the floor. A small whimper could be heard from under the pile, and slowly Sans extracted himself and stood. 

 

He couldn’t believe that Papyrus was going to make him work through yet another day of magic overload. He could barely even stand and his mind was screaming at him to either blow something up or fuck something senseless. Anything to relieve the burning heat deep in his bones.

 

Papyrus couldn’t deny that his brother looked horrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, he doubted he slept a wink last night. His chest was heaving and his eye flickering from red to white. He looked sick. Sick was weak, something the leader of the noble royal guard could absolutely not stand. Seeing Sans at his post like this would surely tarnish his name. After the clusterfuck that happened yesterday, he wasn't even sure if having Sans stand guard would do any good. Good thing he had been along to pick up after his brother, once again. How would the townspeople think of him, having a brother unable to control a bit of extra magic in his system?

 

“ come on paps, you know how rough this is for me.” Sans pleaded. “ you have them too; all monsters do!”

 

He didn’t understand how Papyrus seemed to control his extra magic so effortlessly during his seasons. He could barely even tell when they were - the only signs were him staying out at sparring practice a bit longer than normal. It just wasn’t fair. He was supposed to be the older brother.

 

Turning with a flair, Papyrus flung his red cape over his shoulder and looked back at his counterpart.

 

“ SO BE IT. BUT YOU WILL BE IN CHARGE OF THE HUMAN UNTIL I GET BACK TONIGHT. MAKE SURE THEY DON’T ESCAPE.”

 

That was even  _ less  _ fair! How was he supposed to control himself around her? It wasn’t like Papyrus was blind to what happened. They had had a long “discussion” last night about Sans’s failures and how disgraceful he was to their family name. Papyrus had been disappointed in him being manipulated so easily by the human. He ran his phalanges over the sore spots on his ribs. It had ended suddenly and forcefully, as their conversations usually were wont to. His low HP meant that altercations never got too serious, but every so often Paps made him worry.

 

“ * w-what if…”

 

Papyrus suddenly turned and strode back towards his brother, not stopping until Sans’ chest was a few inches away from his breastplate. A gloved hand grasped the front of his nightshirt and pulled him close to the taller man’s skull. 

 

“ DON'T QUESTION ME. AND SANS, ANY MORE MISTAKES LIKE LAST NIGHT’S WILL BE PUNISHED. SEVERELY.”

 

Sans bounced a couple times as he was shoved back onto his mattress and nodded shortly.

 

“* y-yes paps.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After Papyrus had left for Guard Duties, Sans had curled himself back into his boney burrito and let a few hours pass with intense shivering and fitful sleep. 

 

As his brother had mentioned, and as you had experienced first hand, Sans was experiencing his fifth period in Season. It went by many nicknames: Heat, The High5, Season, Mating Week, take your pick. It was five days of hell in a handbasket, and every monster past the age of puberty was subjected to it at least once a year, if not more. The exponential increase in magic was to help prepare their bodies when the time came to reproduce - where they would combine a piece of their soul with another’s and form an offspring. It was a painful and dangerous process, and monsters had died trying. The magic overload that it took to form a new body often overwhelmed the monster’s form and killed them. 

 

Seasons helped to build up immunity to magic, and the more you had under your belt, the easier they were to handle. Sans was still pretty new to them, and the first few years were the roughest. Young monsters needed to constantly work off the excess magic if they even wanted to function during their week. Biology - nice caring biology - had given them two options. You see, with the magic came a spike of aggression - encouraging stronger monsters to get some relief through sparring and using their powers against each other. It also came with a sudden rush of arousal; another quick and harmless way to let off some steam. Nothing like grabbing your next door neighbor and having a quickie behind the shop to use up some excess magic. Having only 1 HP, embarrassingly low defense, and a horrible reputation thanks to Papyrus left Sans where he was now. 

 

Stuck in bed sweating it out. 

 

If it were up to him, he would spend all day like this, holed up in his room. But not today - he had a human to care for.

 


	6. Sweet Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 3000 hits! Can I tell you guys how amazing you are? Because you are! Just for that, here is this insanely long chapter compared to my other chapters, filled with lovely skeleton smut for you skeleton fuckers out there. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Soon after your meal of (poisoned?) fries, it became painfully apparent that there was nothing to do in your cell. You were too cold to go back to sleep, and your phone had been long lost in the ruins. The chain that fastened you to the wall gave you a limited range of movement; its furthest point left you a good 5 feet from the door. The window maybe? You found out that you could reach it, but it was cemented into the wall in such a way that using it as an escape route was impossible. 

 

A flash of movement outside of the window caught your eye. You used a tattered sleeve to wipe some of the frost off the inside of the pane and peered out. Snowdin still looked threatening, but during the day it at least showed some signs of life. Monsters of various shapes and forms passed by the front of your shed. The thought of calling to one of these monsters to help you crossed your mind; briefly. You saw a man made of fire slaughter a smaller rat monster for bumping into him on accident and quickly shuffled that plan into the “no go” bin. 

 

You’d been through some fucked up shit at the hands of the skeleton brothers, but they hadn’t killed you, and fed you, sorta. So far they were ironically the safest people you knew down here. 

 

As if Karma had summoned them, you heard the doorknob jingle and jumped back from the window, pretending to… well, stand there. 

 

Sans entered and closed the door behind him. Where was Papyrus? He must’ve noticed your glance, because he laughed quietly as he shoved the key in his pocket.

 

“* paps ain’t here today kid. he told me to keep an eye socket on ya.”

 

He looked you over, sharp grin widening in mirth. Despite the somewhat threatening tone of his voice, he looked faintly worse for the wear. His eyes were dimmer than they were last night, and even you could tell he was not feeling his best. Finding your voice, you angrily snapped at him.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“* nothing, nothing. just didn’t know you were into stuff like that kid. ” 

 

He winked playfully at you and you felt your cheeks redden. What was he… oh! Your hands flew to the band of leather affixed around your neck as you got what he was hinting at.

 

“ I’m not! Your brother did this to me. What’s up with you anyway; you look horrible!”

 

Sans had admittedly missed your sass, but you were observant enough to throw him off his game. He was hoping to hold out until he left, where he could climb back into bed. Smile wavering imperceptibly, his eyes left you for a second and glanced at your empty food bowl. It was obvious he was fielding your questions.

 

“* looks like you enjoyed your breakfast at least. i convinced paps to save the spaghetti for another meal. you’ll thank me later.”

 

Why was he being so casual towards you? You still hadn’t forgotten his threats, and the marks he had left still lingered on your skin. Trust wasn’t going to come that easily. Convinced that he wasn’t planning on attacking you right this moment though, you flopped back and sat down on the edge of the mattress. 

 

“What was in the fries? Did you poison me? Are you here to attack me again?” You fired questions at him like bullets, one after another in rapid succession. 

 

“* woah woah woah, calm down. guess you’ve never had monster food before.” With a grunt, he sat down on the floor across the room, facing you. His clothes were far more casual today - a black turtleneck paired with a plain pair of black sweats. 

 

“* it’s not poison. it’s magic. helps ta heal your body and soul.”

 

Judging by the way your wounds had healed, you were inclined to believe him. His hand rubbed the back of his skull awkwardly.

 

“* as for your second question, I actually wanted to apologize for yesterday. it’s been a rough week, and i lost control for a bit.”

 

He…. was apologizing? Not to mention healing you? Now you were extremely confused. You thought you had these two all figured out; all bloodthirst and bravado. Maybe there was a little more to them than all that. 

 

“ Lost control? I wasn’t aware your dick had a mind of it’s own.” You quipped sarcastically. 

 

There was a soft clink as Sans let his skull fall into his hand.

 

“* well, yes and no. it’s more like my magic has a mind of it’s own. i’m guessing humans wouldn’t have this problem.”

 

‘Problem?’ Well, there were sort of laws against a lot of the things you had encountered down here, but you let that slide for now. The more you encountered this “magic”, the stranger it became. Your silence must’ve prompted further explanation, since after a long awkward few seconds, he spoke up again.

 

“* look. once a year or so we have this thing where our magic multiplies, and we have to use it up somehow or burn out. some monsters fight it out, some monsters… prefer other methods. As i said in the clearing sweetcheeks, you have the worst timing.”

 

A very simplified explanation, but it would do. Understanding dawned in your eyes as all the little details clicked into place. Furthermore, a small spark of an idea burst into life, kindling in the back of your mind. Maybe you could use this to your advantage…

 

“ Or maybe…I have perfect timing?” you mused, grinning as the skeleton across from you narrowed his eyes in confusion. “ You looked a lot better last night after our little encounter, right? Well maybe-”

 

A sharp cough cut you off. 

 

“* i’m not completely idiotic,  _ human _ .” His lack of pet name let you know how pissed off he was. “* i’ve been nice to you so far, but if you try to get cheeky with me i can easily put you back in your place.”

 

As if emphasizing his point, Sans had gotten to his feet and walked over to where you sat, towering above you. You met his stony gaze with a confident one of your own. 

 

“I wasn’t going to ask for you to let me escape.”

 

It was Sans’s turn to be caught off guard. “* then what…?” 

 

He was ready for you to ask for a myriad of things, all leading to you getting out of here. You were a tricky kid. Were you going to ask for the key? A knife? Perhaps a-

 

“I want a shower.” 

 

He searched your eyes for any sign of a joke, or some hidden punch line, but you seemed serious enough. It seemed like a safe enough deal… and one glance at you was reason enough to understand your desire for one. 

 

“* i don’t mean to be a  _ wet _ blanket, but are you sure that’s all you’re after here?”

 

You hesitantly nodded. Honestly, the shower had been a spur of the moment idea that had escaped your lips the second it had formed. Feeling your shirt  _ crunch _ instead of fold might have contributed to your urgency. But now that the idea had been presented, and the fact he was even considering it, there was absolutely nothing you wanted more right now. 

 

It was evident that Sans had already made up his mind; you could see how tightly his teeth were clenched, and his eye was letting off a steady red glow. But you could tell that he was hesitating, not wanting to make the same mistake twice. What if this was another trick; A clever plan that ended with them running off into the woods and him dust on the ground? 

 

Feeling like you were toying with death, you reached out and lightly tugged on his sweatpants, casting a puppydog look up into his eyes. You knew how to play _this_ game at least; it was the same on the surface. Any resolve he might have had left was dissolved when you lightly bit your lip. His soul caught in his chest and with a growl, he was poised above you; pinning you against the bed. Too easy. 

 

“* that’s it; you’re clearly askin for it. one fuck, one shower. deal?”

 

Your heart thumped loudly at the close contact. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed it until now. What a freak. You might have really wanted that shower, but you knew that wasn’t enough of a reason to subject yourself to this again. No. You didn’t want to admit it, but ever since this morning, your body had been aching for a repeat of yesterday - whether your brain liked it or not. His pelvis pressed insistently against your stomach; impatient for the go ahead. 

 

Smirking lightly, you twisted your fingers into the hem of his shirt, grounding him while you lightly arched up into his motions.

 

“deal.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

While Sans’ actions were still fueled by desperation, this time around he was much more in control. Cold fingers ran lightly down their arm, a strangely tender motion that didn’t quite match the lustful look reflected in his eyes. 

 

‘* so soft.’ He marveled inwardly. He hadn’t really gotten a chance yesterday to appreciate all the things about the human that made their body so different from his own. Their soft supple flesh, the silky hair that snagged slightly in his joints; all so novel and exciting. 

 

Hand reaching her wrist, it lightly curled around the limb and brought it above her head, where the other had already been resting. His large grip easily restrained both, leaving her helpless under him. His other hand gripped at what remained of her shirt and effortlessly tore it away, winning a offended groan from his prisoner.

 

“What am I supposed to wear now?” They complained, only partially joking. Sans brought his skull down to lap languidly up her neck, too busy savoring her taste to answer. Even covered with a day's worth of dried blood and sweat, he could still not get enough of the unique flavor. He resisted the urge to sink his fangs into her again; he could hear the hot blood running just under the surface of her skin, and recalled the copper tang of it on his tongue. 

 

‘* maybe just a taste..’ His canines twitched against her fragile skin, scratching the surface just enough for a bright bead of blood to mar her flesh, like a ruby against the snow. He eagerly lapped it up and hummed in satisfaction. She shivered beneath him, the scent of her arousal growing stronger by the minute. 

 

He heard his name, gasped quietly and desperately next to his skull. This was  _ much _ different than last time. He barely had to focus, his cock materializing and straining the waistband of his sweats without provocation. As much as he enjoyed toying with her, the insistent reminder of magic coursing through his bones was enough to get him moving.

 

His large fingers fumbled with the button on her pants, and he was tempted to send those packing the same as her shirt. Sensing his urgency, and the imminent threat to yet another clothing item, she squeezed a hand out of his grip and worked the button free. Sans grunted his thanks and yanked them down and off, throwing them into the corner of the room. Her underwear was next, discarded in the same way. 

 

Even though his body was practically on autopilot at this point, he restrained himself long enough to explore the part of her he hadn’t yet really seen, only felt. He pulled his head back enough to see her spread before him, flushed and undone. A flutter of pride brushed the back of his ribs like an energetic moth. He had done this to her. Hard fingers ran up and down her slit, spreading the lips to see her entrance. The human burned even redder under his intense gaze, trying to squirm away. How cute; they were embarrassed. 

 

Resting one heavy hand on her shoulder, he slipped a finger into her soaked opening, rough pads massaging her inner walls. She keened lightly at the sensation, eyes half lidding. Sans decided that he wanted to see her completely lose herself; and hear more of those beautiful sounds she was making just for him. His dick pulsed with barely restrained magic, but he held back. He could see the blood red light of his eye illuminate her skin, giving the whole room a slightly ethereal glow. With relief in such close proximity, his magic was going haywire.

 

‘* a little longer. hold on.’

 

A second finger slipped in beside the first, scissoring roughly. As wet as she was, he doubted she needed much preparation, but he still enjoyed the feeling of her tightening around him. Not to mention that she seemed to really be liking it, mewls of pleasure escaping from her lips. Music to his ears - if he had had any. 

 

While one hand was busy, the other left her shoulder and worked his thick member out of his sweats. It was already leaking small beads of precum, landing hotly on the skin of her stomach much like drops of hot wax. 

 

He gave it a few hard strokes before shifting his hips into place. After a pause of thought, he used his magic to lift her legs onto his shoulders. She yelped as she suddenly changed position, feeling the familiar and invigorating tingle shoot through her veins and come to rest heavily in her core. God she loved magic. 

 

The fleshy head of his cock pressed against her tight entrance, uncomfortably hot. But she was so desperate for the tantalizing friction that she didn’t even care, hips bucking casually to try and get him to hurry up and enter her. Noticing her motions, Sans let out something between a laugh and a growl and pulled her down towards him, impaling her on his throbbing shaft. The red dots in his eyes shone like stars with pleasure, capturing the human's gaze as he buried himself to the hilt with a low groan. Even though it was a simple trade of services, he couldn’t help but think that the moment was strangely intimate. 

 

He rested his skull against her forehead as he began to move. His tongue flopped messily from between his teeth, and his sockets drifted closed as he lost himself in the sweet relief from the uncomfortable pressure of magic that had been plaguing him all morning. Instead, his soul burned with pleasure and need and lust - feelings that overtook his senses until it was just sensation. He could feel her writhing under him, mirroring his motions to send his thrusts even deeper. Worked into her soft moans were reverent exclamations of his name; guess paps had mentioned it sometime last night. It sounded amazing on her lips. 

 

As he felt himself approaching his climax, he took up a quick hard rhythm, arched over her while fingers pressed into the surface of the mattress. The increasing volume of her moans beneath him signaled that she must be nearing release as well. Unable to help himself in a haze of lust, his head slipped from her forehead and dropped to the junction of her neck, canines easily ripping through her skin. As the hot liquid seeped between his teeth, he could hear her screaming in pain, but also felt her walls clench tightly around his cock as the sensation sent her over the edge. He followed shortly after; his last few thrusts deep and jerky before he felt his seed spill messily into her and leak out between her thighs. 

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her, exhaling shakily against the mattress beside her head. His magic extinguished, his cock disappeared inside her (what a strange feeling). On instinct, a boney arm wrapped it’s way around her waist as he felt himself drifting off into the first peaceful sleep he had had in days. 

 

She considered complaining about his ribs pressing uncomfortably into her skin, but after seeing the look of pure relief on his tired features, decided that letting him rest for a while wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing. Besides, he was unbelievably warm, and soon she felt herself drift off to sleep as well.

 

The shower could wait.

 


	7. Stream of Consciousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear things up, my UF!Sans is a salty lil shit, but most of his "bad boy" act is just redirected from the abuse he gets from his brother and his social status in town. In reality, he is terrified of being hurt, emotionally or physically, so he walls himself off and pretends that nothing bothers him. 
> 
> In other news, hoooly shit I'm almost at 4k hits and over 200 kudos! You guys are great!

When you woke, the sun was high in the sky. If time worked anything like it did on the surface, it was early evening - what counted as the “sun” just beginning to lengthen the shadows around Snowdin. The frosted glass of the window made the fading light into dull fractals that danced on your skin. As your body slowly dragged itself out of deep sleep, you groggily tried to stretch, only to find yourself trapped under something fairly heavy and pleasantly warm. Trying to move again just prompted the weight to shift with a tired groan.

 

Wait. The events of your mid-morning came rushing back as you finally brushed off the last of your sleep from your foggy mind. So that must mean…

 

“Hey! Sans! Wake up!” You wriggled again, trying to make your point. 

 

“* mmrph?” Eye sockets blinked open lazily, startlingly empty for a minute before the white pinpricks that functioned as his pupils flickered into life like a faulty light bulb. They were wide and hazy, glancing around the room before coming to rest on the crown of your head; currently nestled against his sternum. 

 

Once he registered where he was, and what he was doing, Sans shot up and away like your skin was on fire.

 

“* shitshitshit not again!” His eyes and grin were slightly crazy as he stumbled back from the mattress. His fingers scraped his skull as he struggled to remember exactly what happened. 

 

“* what did i promise you? please tell me i didn’t just dig my own grave, although to you that would probably be ideal. talk about givin’ myself a  _ bed _ time ya’ fuckin bonehead! ” He was rambling.

 

You couldn’t help but laugh, still in somewhat of a good mood from lingering endorphins, paired with the best sleep you had had in days. For once you weren't hungry, or cold, or facing immediate death. His rambling trailed off, his teeth set in a tense grimace and sweat beading on his skull. 

 

“Calm down bone man. You only promised me to hand deliver me past the barrier and back to my hometown, carrying me on your shoulders and praising my name~”

 

He still looked dubious. While he had been mostly sane while making the deal, magic overload made you do some pretty wild things and honestly he couldn’t decide for certain if what you were saying was grounded in truth. You felt slightly bad for your captor; after all you had tricked him twice in as many days. A flash of white caught your vision from across the room and your gaze fell upon the now deceased remains of your shirt. You feel a little less guilty. 

 

“I asked for a shower. That’s all.” The words sounded unbelievably foolish coming from your mouth, and it echoed on San’s expression. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight selling your body for a bit of personal hygiene was a dubious idea at best. 

 

Your resigned stance must’ve marked what you were saying as truth, because you could visibly see the skeleton relax. That was at least something he could do without getting killed. His eye lights flickered to the window, gauging how much time they had left before Papyrus returned from training. They still had a good few hours, Sans noted in relief.

 

“ *well. i’m a skeleton of my word, so let’s get this over with.” He approached you again, and you flinched instinctively. He frowned, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Grabbing a hold of your wrist, he yanked you effortlessly to your feet. A sense of de ja vu washed over you at the close contact and your cheeks darkened. His other hand reached around you and you felt him messing with the back of your collar. With a soft clink, the chain hit the bed and his reason for keeping a hold on you rang clear. He still obviously didn’t trust you not to run off; deal or no deal.

 

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed his quiet explanations. 

 

“ *nobody can see you, so i’m going to just teleport us into the house from in here. it’s really important you keep contact with me, or you could get lost in the void. you might feel a bit nauseous, but that’s normal if you aren’t used to this kind of thing.”

 

The low timbre of his voice calmed you, although you couldn’t understand why he was taking the time to explain things to you when he had just teleported you the other day with no warning at all. All the talk of getting lost in the void had you slightly spooked, so against your better judgements, you stepped forward and wrapped your free hand around his neck. Marginally uncomfortable, but better that than the void. Pressed into the front of his shirt, you couldn’t see Sans raise a brow bone in amusement. 

 

“ *just the wrist was fine, but  _ tibia _ -nest, i’m not complaining.”

 

Before you could comprehend your mistake, he activated his magic (thankfully still simmering at slightly above normal levels) and teleported you both into the living room of his house. As soon as you were absolutely sure that your feet were on solid ground again, you rocketed away from him, suitably aghast at what could be construed as an unnecessary “hug”. 

 

Avoiding his gaze, you looked around at their dwelling. It was sparsely furnished, and immaculately clean. It almost looked like no one lived here, if not for the used dishes you could see in the sink in the adjoining room, and the well worn green couch splayed tiredly in the center of the living room, facing a large TV. The floors were bare wood, stained dark similar to the ones in your shed. A dark maroon colored the walls, like the color of blood partially dried. 

 

Now that you were outside of the shed, you became acutely aware of just how little you were wearing, crossing your hands over your chest frantically. Sans, noticing, just scoffed and gestured to a door tucked away underneath the stairs to the second floor.

 

“ *well? get to it. and don’t even think of drowning yourself; or i’ll revive you and then leave you for papyrus to deal with.” 

 

Walking to the bathroom, you noticed that Sans was following closely behind. Did he intend…?

 

The door opened of it’s own accord, the faint red glow beside you betraying more casual use of magic from your captor. He really was lazy. Your self directed question was answered as he ushered you into the small room with a hand on your back and locked the door behind him. He looked completely at ease as he started the water and stepped back, watching expectantly.

 

You shuffled on the balls of your feet, somehow suddenly self conscious. 

 

“ *it’s nothin’ I ain’t seen before. get on with it.” He urged you on. It almost sounded like he was trying to make lightly of the situation, but it came off as snide. You shrugged off the last tatters of your jacket, the rest of your clothes either in useless shreds or lying on the floor back at the shed. Naked as the day you were born, you turned toward the mirror you had spied on the way in.

 

The reflection that stared back at you looked deader than the skeleton standing beside you. Millions of tiny cuts, now scabbed over, marred your skin. Fresher gouges from your first encounter with Sans stood out against your skin, bright pink and partially closed over. You guessed the fries had helped to speed up the healing process. Your most concerning injury was the bite to the shoulder you had sustained earlier, still oozing a bit as you moved. Below it you could still see the remnants of the first bite, a shiny white scar tissue. Usually soft hair was shiny with dirt and tangled horribly. Any part of you that wasn’t covered with dried blood was filthy with sweat and dried cum. 

 

You looked like you had just been through hell. In a way you had been.

 

The steaming stream of water beside you was inviting, and with a pleasured sigh, you slipped under the flow. You could feel the tension in your muscles washing away, and even the sting against your wounds made you feel more alive. Unable to keep a grin off your face, you ran your fingers through your hair, working out the knots and making sure the last traces of filth went down the drain. You focused next on your body, determined to feel like a normal clean human again. A jaunty tune found it’s way past your lips as you scrubbed away, hummed quietly but with vigor. Once you were satisfied with your state of cleanliness, you chanced a glance over at Sans. 

 

You had assumed he would be watching you like he was before, but instead, you found him slumping against the wall, staring quite fixedly at the mirror you had been preoccupied with earlier. His eyes were dim and lost in thought, and you thought you could almost see a hint of red high on his cheek bones. Maybe it was a bit hot in here for him? 

 

Before you could stop yourself, you felt the words force their way out. 

 

“You should come wash up too. You know, so Papyrus won’t find out…” You quickly recovered, admonishing your mind for being so friendly with what was technically your prison guard. 

 

‘He’s almost killed you multiple times you know. Not to mention the fact that he’s keeping you prisoner until they kill you in a few days. You can’t trust the guy.’

 

Sans seemed slightly taken aback by your request, his right eye flickering red with distrust. 

 

You didn’t know why you were being this way towards him. No matter how hard you tried to put him in a bad light, something always caught your eye that… reminded you of yourself. 

 

* * *

 

 

Join… her? Sans processed the words several times in his head before the request made any sense. He immediately was set on edge, magic flaring in self defense. First this stupid request for a shower, and now this? What kind of game was she trying to play… and why was it working?

 

He had been surveying his own reflection in the mirror, marveling at how put together he seemed despite the circumstances. Here he was, in the middle of his season, and he was feeling fine. His magic was at a normal level, the primal voice in the back of his mind was quiet, and he was even well rested for the first time since, well, forever. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept soundly. The only thing out of the ordinary was a strange thrumming in his soul, and feeling slightly feverish. Writing it off to his yearly heat, he paid it little mind.

 

Anyway, they seemed to be waiting expectantly for an answer. 

 

They had a point, he figured. If he didn’t shower, his brother would definitely smell human on him again, and this time he might not be so forgiving… 

 

Sans shivered imperceptibly with fear as he got to his feet. There wasn’t enough time to get the human back to the shed and then back to scrub himself down, so it looked like this was his only choice.

 

Quickly, and with a forced offhandedness, he shrugged out of his clothes and stepped into the shower; as far away from the human as possible. He could feel their eyes studying him, and couldn’t help feeling strangely vulnerable without the protection of all the extra bulk his clothes provided. 

 

“You really are just a skeleton.” They marveled, eyes focused on the back of the shower through his ribcage.

 

“ *a bone-afide real live specimen sweetheart.” He quipped back dryly. Grabbing a sponge off a hook, he hastily began cleaning his bones, hoping to finish as soon as possible. He must be getting sick again; his soul was going haywire, and the heat settling on his cheeks had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. 

 

When he glanced back up he was startled to see the human standing uneasily close to him, absorbed in figuring out how his bones all fit together. Although it was generally the same, there were enough differences to interest them it seemed. 

 

“What happened here?” 

 

Sans froze as their hand touched one of his lower ribs, eyes blinking out and a tight grin set on his features. It was a fracture, the one he had gotten from Papyrus last night after their conversation. They both stayed frozen like that for a few tense moments, until the human pulled their hand away, mumbling a quick apology. 

 

“ *d-don’t worry about it.” He replied, referring to both the injury and the touch. White pinpricks returned, still somewhat dim. “ *i deserved it for failing my bro and pretty much the whole of monsterkind. i’m used to it.” The smile on his face was obviously fake. 

 

The look on their face as they looked up at him was unreadable, and the longer they stood there, eyes locked, the heavier the atmosphere became. Finally, the water ran cold and the human moved out of the stream. They hesitantly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around themselves, wordlessly asking if it was alright to use. A terse nod was all they got in response, the skeleton wordlessly drying off and leaving the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He returned seconds later with a blanket crumpled under his arm and dressed in the same black hoodie and shorts combo they remembered from their first meeting.

 

He didn’t ask permission this time before taking hold of their arm and teleporting them back into the shed, where he wordlessly pulled them over to the mattress and hooked them back up to the chain latching them to the wall. The blanket was unceremoniously tossed on the bed, a silent solution to their lack of clothes for now. The human could obviously sense the shift in mood, because they were quiet throughout the whole process. He left without a look back.

 

Sans stepped back into the house, choosing to walk the short distance between the two buildings. Walking through the house as in a daze, he collected the discarded towels and threw them in his room. He would deal with them later. He finally lost his composure halfway through the living room, where he dropped down onto the couch like a marionette with it’s strings cut. His ribs heaved up and down as his phalanges clenched the front of his hoodie like a lifeline. 

 

Why did they have to  _ touch _ him? It was different when he was in control, and things were planned, negotiated, contracted. This was the first time they had made contact with him without being forced or persuaded, and he could still feel where their warm skin had rested on his cracked rib. It had been tentative and curious, barely putting any weight behind it at all. They seemed as unsure as he was. 

 

His soul was vibrating hard enough to faintly rattle his bones. This definitely wasn’t a sign of magic sickness.

 

‘ *shit.’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans tells puns when especially stressed. >_>


	8. A Place of Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but I'm already working on 9. The cut off place just felt right.

Sans was scarce for a couple days after that. The days were excruciatingly long without his distractions; you often chose to just sleep away the daylight as your dreams were more interesting than anything you would see out your window. Every time the door opened, you expected him to step lightly into the room, cracking a bad joke or two; but it was always Papyrus.

 

The taller skeleton stopped by a few times a day; once before work and once when he arrived home. During these visits he was often menacingly silent, barely meeting your eyes as he checked the security of your chain and dumped a helping of unappetizing pasta in your food dish. The noodles were always somehow over and undercooked simultaneously, and the sauce may as well been tomato flavored water. Sans had been right; you would kill for some of those stale fries right now. Thoughts drifting back to the shorter brother again, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was alright. He had said that Papyrus was the one who had cracked his rib, which made his evident fear of being found out even more plausible. You knew he wasn’t dead, at the very least.

 

There were subtle signs he stopped by, but never when you were awake. The day after the shower, you had woken to find your jacket missing, only for it to be replaced after your midday nap. It was cleaner than it had been, and clumsy stitching could be seen on a few of the bigger holes. You put it on gratefully.  

 

Stranger still, you had woken up a couple times in the middle of the night to a pair of white lights staring at you intensely from a corner of your room. They were always gone within seconds of your notice, leaving you to wonder if they had ever been there in the first place.

 

It wasn’t until the third night that he finally returned.

 

The light had faded into darkness hours ago, and you were curled up under your blanket, which you now considered pretty much your only possession. Your dreams were in a darker place that night, unintelligible voices in a familiar low tone, and dark shadows broken by bright red flashes.

 

Fear.

 

Desperation.

 

Pain.

 

Cold.

 

Sans.

 

 _Sans_.

 

 **_Sans_ **.

 

It was always him. Sometimes warm, steady, a stable presence in your fragile and upturned reality;  sometimes as a terrifying presence that hurt and coerced and threatened you with pleasure and death in the same sentence.

 

White eyes.

 

Red eyes.

 

Pleasure.

 

Pain.

 

???

 

Enemy.

 

This night was no different, the feeling of his grip around you jolting you from sleep in terror, his magic still blinding you with red light. Except the feeling didn’t go away; the heat and pressure was real and tangible against your skin. Adrenaline still racing through your veins, you struggled against his grip; your mind identifying him as something to fear and flee.

 

Sans was curled up against you on the mattress, forehead pressed against your neck and arms circling your waist in a vice grip. His breathing was unsteady; the bones in his arms practically branding irons against your skin.

 

You were stunned into silence.

 

Sensing that you were awake, he shifted his grip even tighter, beginning to murmur under his breath; a steady stream of words that you had to strain your ears to hear, filled with urgency.

 

“ *please ask me for something - anything. i can’t stand it anymore i’m going crazy i need you to help me please so make one of your shitty contracts pleasepleasePLEASE”

 

Even from his place behind you, his magic cast a strong red glow on the far wall, and you could feel the harmless flames flicker warmly against your back.

 

You struggled to comprehend exactly what was happening. Here was your captor, who was able to command you as he pleased, pressed against you in the middle of the night, after disappearing for days, pleading for… what? He wanted you to make another deal? Why? In the position you were now he could just take what he wanted, to satisfy himself. Why wasn’t he? What use did he have for you to gain something from this?

 

* * *

 

 

His mind was racing. He could feel his magic burning through every cell in his body, threatening to break him apart. The pain was intense and suffocating, clouding his mind yet heightening other senses to unnatural levels. He had been able to smell the sheets on his bed, newly washed since he had given the others to you. The smell of day old spaghetti downstairs in the fridge, and even your scent; an entire building away yet as strong as if you were right there next to him. Every small movement outside had caught his notice, from the subtle shifting of pine needles in the wind to smaller nocturnal creatures moving through the trees. He could even sense his own soul and magic in excruciating detail.

 

He had tried to stay away; to go back to how he had coped before, safe and reliant only on his own will. But without an outlet, his magic levels had shot back higher than ever before, now dependant on your assistance to even remain tolerable.

 

Sans thought that if he remained distant, the uncomfortable feelings he was having would go away, and once you were gone, it wouldn’t really matter. He hated feeling weak like this; like he _needed_ someone.

 

Even Papyrus had commented on his regression, commenting quietly that whoever had been helping him the last few days was really making a difference in his brother for the better. The taller skeleton said that Sans should really try and make contact with them again; he was much more useful when he wasn’t holed up in his room all day.

 

Ashamed, Sans didn’t reply, scooping what was left on his plate into his mouth and returning to his room. If only his brother knew what kind of creature he was consorting with, he would surely change his tune.

 

He lasted three days until the pain got bad enough to cloud his thoughts and blindly teleport him into your room. He had done so a couple times already, but only in the dark, and only to make sure his brother wasn’t causing you any harm. He had taken your coat and repaired it as best he could one night, for reasons that weren't quite clear to him at the time. Sans couldn’t explain why he cared, but he did.

 

Now here he was, grasping you to his sternum as if somehow you could siphon away the pressure deep in his chest just by proximity. He couldn’t live with himself to admit that he needed your help, your touch. That he needed you.

 

But if you asked him for something, it would count as another deal. He would still be in control; have a cause, an excuse. He could write his feelings off as primal need and go back to being a predator to his weaker prey. A monster that Papyrus wouldn’t need to be ashamed of.

 

So “ *please,”  he asked, his voice wavering.

  
“ *make a deal with me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back


	9. Pure Intentions Hurt The Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must really love you guys, with two chapters in a day! But alas, it just means that I am horrible at keeping things to myself once I write them.
> 
> For extra sad, here is the song I was listening to while writing this
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dos2-Hv4tdU

For a second, there was relative silence between you, the skeleton’s labored breathing uneasily filling the space. It was easy to tell that he was suffering, and had obviously been holding out as long as he was able the last couple of days.

 

Why hadn’t he come to you earlier?

 

Dispelling the lingering terrors from your dream, you wiggled your way around in his arms until you were facing him. You rested your chin against the top of his skull and sighed.

 

“What am I going to do with you Sans?”

 

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest - or was that your soul? You still didn’t really understand the difference between the two. Despite everything that had happened, slowly but surely, you found yourself getting more and more attached to the skeletal man currently holding you. You recognized attraction when you felt it, and the way your body was reacting around him spelled it out as clear as day.

 

You wrestled a hand out of his grip and rested it on his cheek. He flinched, but didn’t pull away when you absentmindedly brushed your thumb soothingly back and forth against the smooth bone. He looked absolutely horrible; faint red streaks marred the white bone below his eye sockets where he’d been crying. You couldn’t imagine what he was feeling, but it was obviously bad if it forced him into your bed in such a state.

 

If you were being honest with yourself, you were going to die in a few days anyway… what difference would it make if you indulged your foolish projections of love on your guard? Even if he was just using you as relief for some biological urge, well, you could still pretend couldn’t you?

 

Wracking your brain, you tried to come up with something that didn’t sound entirely foolish as your side of the bargain. You would ask for some decent grub, but that was almost insulting. Clothes? You didn’t really need them as you were now. Gradually, a notion bloomed in the back of your mind until it’s petals were pressing against the back of your lips. You weren’t scared this time.

 

“A date.”

 

He stiffened in your arms; breathing hitching in his throat as the room filled with suffocating silence. From the lack of light, it seemed that his eyes had gone dark as well. If not for his slight trembling, he could have been a statue. Had you gone too far?

 

Haltingly, his arms loosened around you and he maneuvered his body to hover over you. Dark sockets stared deep into your wide eyes, unreadable. The sound of the tab of your jacket zipper being pulled down deliberately was unusually loud, your senses heightened with a mix of fear and anticipation. Light fingers pushed it aside; you carefully shifting to let him pull it off of you.

 

Gulping, you reached a hand of your own to grasp the hot metal of his zipper, removing his hoodie in the same careful way. The faint light radiating from underneath his ribcage softly illuminated the both of you in a cool white light. While you had gotten a bit of time to look in the shower, you hadn’t noticed this. You took a moment to observe how his ribs were thicker and bulkier than a normal skeletons, with barely any gap between them. You ran your fingers down them as you silently counted the sets; he had five pairs in all. Each seemed to be marred with past breaks, where the bone hadn’t healed quite right. You could feel him shiver under your touch - what was he feeling?

 

Never in your past experiences had you ever gotten to pay much attention to him; until now, you had no reason to. But now you found yourself wondering how he worked; what parts of him would react to your explorations. Sans had been deathly quiet this whole time, but when you tried to pull your hand away, suddenly his was keeping it there, pressing it against his chest.

 

You took it as a sign to keep going, so you continued dragging your hands over the smooth surface, committing every bump and divot to memory. Touching his collarbone made him tense, but let out a shaky sigh as you kept moving along it. Your fingertips tingled where you touched him; his bones were hot, and you could feel the magic being contained just beneath the surface.

 

Shifting back onto his knees, his hands finally started searching your body, with a delicacy and care similar to what you were doing to him. Thick phalanges left heated trails across your stomach, and brushed carefully over your breasts. He was touching you as if he had never gotten to before, and you reveled in how different it felt.

 

Spreading beneath him as best you could, you took your free hand and guided his down between your legs. This seemed to trigger a bit of instinct in him, as his fondling became a bit rougher and more insistent. A muted crimson glow appeared behind the cloth of his shorts, which you quickly attended to; hand leaving his and palming the bulge gently but needily.

 

You were scared to ruin the tentative vulnerability that Sans was showing, but you knew that he needed this. With a patient tug, you pulled his shorts down enough for his member to come free. It was even hotter to the touch than his bones, but you kept at it; working your hand up and down the shaft.

 

It was around this time that Sans slipped a finger between your folds and into your entrance, using the slightly rough pad of his thumb to rub soft circles on your clit. Gasping quietly, you grind against the blissful friction. He doesn’t take long to insert a second beside the first. As hesitant as he was being, his body was urging him to hurry up.

 

You were eager as well, feeling his cock twitching in your grasp. It was hot and heavy and thick; you wanted, no, needed him inside you. On the same page, he removed his fingers and used your juices to further slick up his member, already slightly dripping precum on his shorts and the mattress. His upper body lowered, resting on his elbow as a wide hand nestled the back of your head and threaded through your hair, bringing you close to his chest. Lining up with your entrance, he buried himself up to the hilt in one easy movement; the long relieved groan that escaped him the first sound he’d made since your wager. A soft moan from yourself paired with it; he filled you so perfectly, stretching you barely within your limits. Obviously struggling, and failing, to hold still, Sans slid himself languidly in and out, almost pulling out with each thrust.

 

It took an especially insistent move on your end to finally convince him to speed up his teasing pace. The carmine light of his eyes finally flickered back to life, although you couldn’t see it pressed against him. Your vision was filled with white: the blinding brilliance of his soul alternating with the slightly duller ivory of his bones.

 

His rutting was raw and uncoordinated, and you could tell that the demands of his magic were winning out over his hesitance. The sharp angles of his pelvis made a good rest for your legs, giving him better access to the deepest parts of you. There was so much heat radiating off of him that you could’ve been in a sauna, instead of in a shack in the frigid town of Snowdin.

 

At that pace, it didn’t take long at all for you to feel a familiar pressure deep in your core; a spring being coiled tightly and ready to release at any moment. Your fingers grasped frantically around one of his ribs, prompting a short growl and a particularly strong thrust on the skeletons part. His entire body was shaking uncontrollably, overcome with magic and heat and pleasure and some emotion that he didn’t quite have a word for but it felt phenomenal, radiating from deep within his soul.

 

You peaked together, and for a second you were blinded by the brilliance of the light emanating from between his ribs. Weak, he collapsed on you, head pressed against the mattress and soul slowly dimming back to a normal luster in front of your eyes.

 

“Sans?” you quietly murmured, his name an unanswered question on your lips.

 

He was trembling, and if you listened hard, you thought you could hear muffled sobs wracking his form.

 

The words that came were hushed, with a husky undertone that betrayed his tears.

 

“ *papyrus was right. humans really are cruel.”

 

You didn’t know how to respond.

 

So you didn’t.

 

The sun was just starting to brighten the world outside when he untangled himself from your grip and wordlessly teleported away. You had dozed off after a couple hours, the comforting vibrations of his soul lulling you off into a deep sleep.

 

Sans hadn’t slept a wink.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez reader, it isn't nice to toy with the feelings of an emotionally compromised skeleton.
> 
> Or so he thinks anyway.


	10. Anxious Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, author /can/ write chapters that don't contain tears and pain.

If not for the soreness between your thighs and the lingering effects of his magic, you could’ve sworn last night was some sort of fever dream. When you woke, you found yourself tangled up in the sheets partially off the mattress; no skeleton in sight. You were utterly perplexed by the events that had transpired, and were determined to ask Sans about it the next time he came by.

 

If ever. You were slightly worried that he would pull his vanishing act again, and last night was his way of trying to say goodbye. 

 

You were pleasantly surprised, however, when the man himself stopped by shortly after Papyruses morning check. He was carrying a bundle of something under his arm, and if you pretended not to notice the dark circles under his eyes, looked fairly okay, his lazy grin settled back on his face. 

 

He sauntered up to the bed and sank down on the mattress next to you, falling backwards as his eyelids closed. For all purposes, he looked like he had fallen asleep on the way down. You stared at him amusedly for a couple seconds while he pretended to snooze, eventually peeking an eye socket open to see if you were watching.

 

“ *i’ve been caught!” He jokingly said, tossing the bundle he had been carrying into your face.

 

“Mmph!” He was quick; you caught whatever it was full in the face, instantly recognizing it as cloth. Thank goodness. As it dropped into your lap, you pulled apart the several pieces of fabric, slightly puzzled as you surveyed each one.

 

Sans spoke up from beside you, still relaxing.

 

“ *i had to guess your size. luckily there are a lot of humanoids in this part of snowdin.”

 

You held one of the items, a black shirt with a couple of orange stripes across the front, in front of your body. It was a little long, but you could tell it would fit. 

 

“I don’t get it? I’ve been in this shack for days and you’re suddenly giving me clothes now? What happened? Did you have a change of heart or something?” 

 

You shoved him lightly in jest, but his chuckle in response was slightly forced.

 

“ *somethin’ like that.” He paused, looking like he was about to say something significant, but instead let it go with a long sigh. “ *you can’t exactly be seen around town in bare bones girly. ‘m just holdin up my end of the deal ‘s all.”

 

Your eyes widened as you remembered exactly what you had asked for the night prior. Pink high on your cheekbones, you shrugged on the shirt and reached for the black leggings in the pile. 

 

Black seemed to be Sans’ color of choice. You couldn’t find any underwear in the pile, and he cast you a sheepish glance when you realized. Had he not been able to find any; or was this his idea of a perverted joke? Ugh, no matter. 

 

The last thing you picked up was familiar, a black hoodie with white fur around the trim, accented with red. You knew where you had seen it before. Looking over at the skeleton beside you, he was indeed wearing a coat almost identical to the one in your hands.

 

“ *i’m loanin it to ya, so don’t  _ jack-et _ alright? it’s so no one knows you’re human” At this he sat up and took it from you, helping you put it on and zip it up. After, he flicked the hood up so it mostly covered your face. You took a deep breath, breathing in the strange smell that was Sans’ and wrinkled your nose as the fur tickled it. 

 

It felt good to wear clothes again; civilized. 

 

You jolted very slightly when boney hands pulled down the hood and fiddled with the back of your neck with no warning. They were still cool from the outside; it seemed like his body heat fluctuated depending on his magic. 

 

“A bit of warning next time eh?” A breathy chortle on your shoulder blades was your response as he finished up whatever he was doing back there. All of a sudden your neck felt uncomfortably bare and light, and your hand drifted up to feel…. nothing.

 

Nothing but smooth skin. 

 

Your head swung around to watch Sans fold up the collar and stuff it in his jacket pocket. He looked… wary. 

 

So this was really happening. Faced with the actual prospect of going on a “date” with Sans had you anxious. He was… taking you outside; that much was evident. Which meant you would be around more monsters. Recalling the violent acts you saw outside your window, second thoughts flooded your mind. Sans was at least vaguely safe, if not a bit neurotic and unpredictable. But you knew from experience that other monsters wouldn’t hesitate to deal the killing blow once they realized what you were.

 

You felt the thick hood cover your head again, and the zipper being tugged further upward; only your eyes were uncovered now. You craned your head up to look at your “date”, finding him staring intensely at you, pinpricks resembling stars in an empty night sky. Once he noticed you looking, his cheekbones flushed and with a cough, he turned away.

 

“ *don’t worry about anyone hurting you, kid. i’ll keep ya safe.”

 

Did skeletons blush? Filing that question along with the other 10,000 questions about the underground in the back of your mind, you took a few steps towards the door, making sure Sans stayed in front of you. It seemed to be a big risk for him to be doing this, so making him feel as at ease as possible was the least you could do.

 

You could hear his fingers rattling against the keys as he unlocked the door. His eyes kept flashing to and fro between what he was doing and you. When it finally opened, and a flurry of snow gusted in to lightly dust the two of you in a fine powder, he stepped back and stared at you expectantly. 

 

“ *ya gettin  _ cold _ feet, pal? i mean it’s  _ snow  _ problem if you are, but lemme know alright? i’m a  _ chill  _ guy but this is ridiculous.”

 

With this many puns, he had to be stressed out of his mind.

 

Taking a few steps out into the snow, you got your first official glance at Snowdin. Your window had only given you a small glimpse of the edge of one of the sidewalks, and you took in the view greedily. It was still fairly early, and most of the residents were either still in bed or already at work. The snow covered paths that wound their way through town sparkled in the light, slightly trampled and melted by a variety of feet. You could tell that once this place had held a lot of charm. There was a tree in the distance, needles brown and wilted. Broken bulbs and barren tinsel marked what used to be some sort of holiday centerpiece. The buildings you could see from here looked lovingly constructed, with wooden details and carefully picked colors, although currently the paint was stripping from the planks and marred by scratches and dents. The bars looked out of place bolted to the windows. 

 

Glancing back, you saw Sans standing stock still in the doorway, eyes devoid of light and clenching the frame hard enough to mark it. 

 

The snow crunched between your fingers as you bent down to gather a lightly packed clump, tossing it in his general direction. His sockets flickered back to life, brow wrinkling in tentative relief and nervousness.

 

You smiled and held out a hand, gesturing for him to join you.

 

“You coming?”

 

* * *

 

 

This was it. Sans was sure he had gone clinically insane.

 

Not like the rest of the maniacs in this god forsaken underground, but actually, undoubtedly crazy. 

 

He picked up a shirt and tossed it into a growing pile behind him, at the chagrin of the bunny employee.

 

“ *too green.”

 

He’d come here right as it opened, insanely early for such a lazy guy like him. The shop owner had looked at him incredulously. Sans was well known for a lot of things, mainly for his family title and his social awkwardness, but never his punctuality. He had been here for three hours so far, and his hands had certainly touched every piece of cloth in the store at least three times.

 

What did you like? What was your favorite color? Fuck, he didn’t even know your name for Asgore’s sake. The only thing he had to go on was the clothes you were wearing when he had first met you, and the short glimpse of your soul right before he had, quite literally, yanked you off your feet. 

 

Red looked great on you, but you probably had seen way too much of that in your short time here.

 

Green gave him a bad feeling for some strange reason, and most things in that category went directly into the refusal pile.

 

Blue would make you stand out way too much.

 

Too big,

 

Too small,

 

No

 

No

 

and No.

 

He almost didn’t hear the rabbit monster come up behind him until she cleared her throat nervously. The younger brother looked incredibly stressed about something, and by the clothes he was searching through…

 

“Do you have a date or something?”

 

Sans jumped back as if the word itself was a death-threat. Sweat beaded down his skull as he met her eyes.

 

“ *ah, sorta. wanted to get her some new clothes and all. i accidently wre- i mean, spilled something on her favorite outfit”

 

Not a complete lie anyway. The shopkeeper giggled as she started rifling through his “maybe” pile, pulling out a couple outfits that went together.

 

“I’m guessing she’s a biped, and slightly smaller than you if these are any indication.” A couple more shirts and skirts were placed to the side. “It’s good to see you opening up, you’ve been nowhere but the sentry station and your place for a couple months now.” She shot Sans a small grin. As one of the few people left in town that wouldn’t try to push him around on sight, he valued her company and advice. 

 

Done with her sorting, she placed the articles of clothing in Sans’s arms. “These leggings stretch, so they are bound to fit. They also will help with the cold. You seemed to put a lot of orange in your pile, so I figured the shirt was a good match. Sorry about the stripes; selection is pretty limited around here these days.”

 

Mumbling his thanks, he handed her a small fistfull of gold. He turned to walk out the door when he felt her furry hand on his back, too short to reach his shoulder.

 

“And Sans, don’t worry about it too much. I know what kind of monster you can be if you really try, and I’m sure she’ll see that too, if you let her.”

 

Too embarrassed to respond, he nodded and stepped back out into the snow.

 

He walked home instead of teleporting, giving him a moment to ruminate on his plans. Surely you had been messing with him by asking for something like that, right? You had probably noticed his little crush and planned to use it against him somehow. After all, Undyne’s return was closing in, and if you were still here when she arrived…

 

Well, he didn’t want to think about it. 

 

Truthfully, this was only his second date ever. His first was with a fire elemental a couple years ago, and things fizzled out pretty quickly after she realized who Sans was related to. So far it seemed like Papyrus scared you, but you didn't seem to look at him worse for being related to him. You seemed to appreciate his sense of humor, and as far as he could tell, you always looked a bit more excited when it was him that walked through the door, instead of paps. 

 

How was this going to work though? You'd have to be in disguise. The clothes were a good start, but he made a mental note to grab one of his spare hoodies when he got home. The hood could hide your face, and humans seemed to get cold pretty easily. Then he would have to take off your collar... that part scared him. It was really the only thing keeping you with him; you obviously weren't living in their shack by choice. Not to mention he would have to trust you to not just run off once he opened the door. You had no reason to stay, and it was with an uneasy soul that he ran through his plans that would likely never pan out.

 

Speaking of which, his soul had been thumping erratically all morning, betraying his excitement and nervousness. Last night you had been so gentle; so kind. You’d touched him like he didn’t scare you; with curiosity and longing. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, but maybe….

 

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Sans felt the stirrings of something deep within his chest. 

 

It was Hope. 

  
  



	11. Good Food, Good Friends, and an Unexpected Interruption

She wasn’t running. It took a badly formed snowball thrown at his skull to break him out of his pessimistic trance, not even noticing that he was gripping onto the doorframe like a lifeline. When he had seen you take that first step into the snow, every magical cell in his body started yelling what a mistake it was to unlatch you; to let you go outside with nothing but your own two feet keeping you by his side.

 

So when you turned back and motioned for him to follow, he was bewildered. 

 

Slightly more at ease now that his worst fear hadn’t immediately become a reality, he joined you in the ankle deep powder outside the shack. You were shivering, and he racked his brain trying to think of what he forgot about mammals and temperature. All your major organs were covered, and the jacket must give you a bit of extra insulation....

 

He looked down. 

 

Oh. 

 

He wore his own shoes for convenience. His bones were susceptible to changes in temperature, but nowhere near as delicate as skin and muscle. Instinctively, he reached for his magic and teleported into his room, where he started rifling through his closet for some sort of suitable footwear. 

 

He almost cracked his skull on the top of the doorframe when he realized.

 

“ *fuck!”

 

* * *

 

 

You were a bit perplexed when he had vanished, but you could hear him clomping around in what must be his room; he must’ve forgotten something. 

 

Well, other than the fact that you were unchained and out in the open.

 

You counted quietly to yourself, smirking a bit, and entertained yourself with making a few more shapes out of snow. You’d reached 20 when you heard muffled shouting and saw a second floor window being wrenched up. His skull peeked out and cast a sheepish grin down at you. 

 

“ *ah.. stay right there!” He tried to sound commanding but now that you were getting more familiar with his mannerisms, his tone didn’t hold quite the same sway over you. You humored him with a nod and satisfied, Sans went back to his search.

 

A pair of black house slippers landed with a flop at your feet. 

 

Today was just full of surprises. You had obviously noticed your bare feet; your toes had gone numb a couple minutes ago, but you hadn’t expected him to. Grateful, you wasted no time in slipping them on. They were huge on you, but warm and toasty. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of big tough Sans wearing these around the house. Did Papyrus have house wear too?

 

The sound of deep laughter erupted beside you - had you said that out loud? It took a solid five minutes for him to catch his breath, between you nagging him for answers and suggesting some of your more imaginative ideas. He wouldn’t give you a straight answer about his brother, but began offering his own silly outfits. You had no idea what half of his references meant (A froggit jumpsuit?) but found yourself chortling anyway.

 

As you came up with increasingly more ridiculous outfits for the nightmarish skeleton guardsman to wear, the two of you began walking towards the more populated parts of town. The brothers lived somewhat on the outskirts for whatever reason.

 

Something to do with their charming personality perhaps?

 

You passed by several monsters on your way, each unique in make up and size. None of them seemed to notice or care about you, but you couldn’t help but spy a couple nasty looks directed at Sans. What was up with that?

 

The witty banter kept you at ease, and you found yourself in a mysteriously good mood; amplified ten-fold when a heavenly smell invaded your senses.

 

You turned to Sans in shock.

 

“Are we getting  _ food? _ ” You asked incredulously, mouth already salivating at the prospect of an actually decent meal.

 

“*you act like we starv-” He paused mid retort, considering all the horrid spaghetti dishes you had had to suffer through. “ *ya know what. in the hopes of looking like less of an ass than i already do, i’m not going to finish that statement.”

 

Jokingly, you bumped up against him with your shoulder, hoping to knock him off balance. You think you would’ve remembered how solid he was, but it didn’t come back to you until you lost balance yourself and went careening into his ribcage. He hadn’t budged an inch.

 

“ *tryin ta pick a fight sweetheart? now that’s a  _ trip _ !” 

 

Dammit, even his puns were starting to be endearing. And the pet names… this was feeling more like an actual date than you were expecting.

 

Grillby’s loomed in front of you, and although the windows were flickering warmly, you still felt a shiver make its way up your spine. In here you would be trapped with many monsters; escaping would be nigh impossible in this closed space. 

 

Sensing your unease, a large bony hand brushed against your back tentatively, then settled gently between your shoulder blades. You didn’t need to look at him to feel his reassurance. When had Sans become someone you turned to for safety? 

 

You supposed living in a town where everyone had questionable morals skewed your perceptions of “nice” a tad. 

 

He pushed open the door with his other hand and led you inside. The first thing you noticed was the sweltering heat, a sharp contrast to the weather outside. The reason was readily apparent, the monster standing behind the bar was a being made of literal fire. His flames were a vibrant amethyst, fading into a bright white as they flickered off the top of his head. He was dressed in white shirt and sharp black vest, which you marveled wasn’t bursting into flame from contact. Four glowing eyes peered out at you from behind dark spectacles, narrowed in recognition. 

 

“..... _ sans”  _

 

His voice sounded like the crackle of flame on wood, soft but still very much capable of harm. You supposed that this was Grillby himself, owner of the restaurant, and he didn’t seem happy to see Sans. 

 

Neither did anyone else in the establishment, you noted as you peered around from under the fluff of your hood. A table of vicious looking dogs had stopped mid meal, baring their teeth. An especially drunk looking rabbit had paused their conversation with a horse monster to stare at you as well. 

 

Glancing up at the skeleton, you were relieved to see that he didn’t seem bothered by the less than swell reception. Ever-present grin still light on his face, he lifted a hand in greeting and steered you over to an empty booth. You sat on opposite sides, slightly leaning in towards each other in familiarity. 

 

Your right side was uncomfortably warm, a sign that Grillby was standing next to your table. Were you sweating with fear or overheating? You wished you could shrug off this thick jacket.

 

Sans spoke up from across the table, ordering burgers and fries for the both of you. You were glad you didn't have to interact with the intimidating figure. He returned soon after with the food, which you dug into with vigor. It was just your run of the mill burger, but you swore that angels burst through the heavens to sing a godly chorus as you took the first bite. The warm tingle of magic swept through you; wiping away lingering soreness and exhaustion you had grown so used to that you’d forgotten they were there. 

 

You were halfway through your burger before you checked on your date, whom had upended an entire bottle of ketchup and mustard on his food, which he was slathering into his maw between his fangs. Had you ever seen him open his mouth in a non-sexual sense? You didn’t think so, and you took his investment in his meal to really study his face. 

 

You’d never really stopped to consider  _ how _ you found him attractive, being a skeleton and all; you just did. Squinting, you tried to imagine what he would look like with flesh and blood. Nope, just not the same. 

 

“Hey, are you cute?” Thanks word vomit.

 

He stopped mid bite, eyes widening comically. “ *... _ what?” _

 

“By monster standards I mean. What am I working with here?”

 

His shoulders hefted in an exaggerated shrug.

 

“ *i don’t go around askin or nuthin’, but i don’t think i look bad. why? realized i was a bit too… bony for your tastes?” 

 

Both of your tones were light with humor, but underneath you recognized the slight tension that came from laughing off a serious question. You’d used dry humor often enough to recognize it. But to confirm or deny would be a blatant admission of your attraction to him.

 

The booth fell into pointed silence. Sans had his fingers tented on the table, studying the patterns in the wood. Of course he wouldn’t meet their standards - he was a giant skeletal horror prop for chrissakes. 

 

“Thanks...Sans.” 

 

The skeleton glanced up at the sound of his name, attentive.

 

“ *for what?”

 

You ran your hand through the fur of the hood, glad it hid your reddening face.

 

“For humoring me with this whole… date thing. I know it’s stupid, and I was just a convenient outlet for your weird magic issue, but all the same… I’m glad it was you I came across.” 

 

You couldn’t look him in the eye, terrified of the rejection that you would surely see there. He sat in stunned silence. 

 

“ *you think i did all this because of those stupid deals?” His tone was awe-struck. 

 

“ *yeah, it started out as that, but -”

 

The door to Grillby’s slammed open, cutting him off. A tall figure made his way over to your table; the bar going deathly silent. 

 

Sans stared up into the narrowed eyes of his brother, sinking as deep into his jacket as possible with a guilty look on his face. 

 

“ *oh… hey paps. you’re home early.” 

 

With a flash of leather Papyrus had taken a tight grasp of sans’ jacket and was holding him effortlessly a couple feet off the ground. 

 

“I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU. SOMETHING SERIOUS HAS HAPPENED.” 

 

His eyes flicked down to you, one of his brow bones raising imperceptibly. You quaked in your seat, dread pooling in your stomach and drying your mouth. You were deader than dead. 

 

In a flash, he had you cradled under his other arm, tight to his side. As an afterthought, he grabbed the half finished burger off of the table and shoved it into your hands. You scrambled not to drop it.

 

“I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER. FINISH THIS WHILE MY BROTHER AND I DISCUSS IMPORTANT MATTERS.”

 

Papyrus carried the both of you outside of the restaurant and around to the back, depositing you in a deep snowdrift that cushioned your fall. He dropped Sans slightly more carefully, but you could still hear his bones rattle as he hit the ground hard. You hadn’t meant to get him in trouble. Inside, you fought with yourself; part of you wanting to stay frozen with fear, and another part wanting to clear Sans’ name and tell Papyrus that this was all your idea. The first part was making a convincing argument. 

 

You zeroed back in on their conversation when you heard a familiar word, spoken as softly as the loud Papyrus could muster.  _ Human _ . This had to be about you. Shoving another bite of the burger into your mouth, you focused on what the two were saying.

 

“ *that’s impossible paps. there’s never been more than one before.”

 

More than one what? Papyrus held up a hand to Sans’ face, who lept back as if he had been burned.

 

“ANOTHER HUMAN HAS BEEN SPOTTED IN THE RUINS SANS, AND THEY ARE KILLING EVERY MONSTER THEY MEET.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plotty plot twist. Been waiting to write this since I started the thing. Procrastinating on finals HARD.
> 
> If anyone wants to ask me shiz about the fic, or anything, or just appreciates a good UT blog, this is me -> http://sinsational-sinnabon.tumblr.com


	12. No Other Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait guys! I was in the middle of finals and had to pull a couple fanfic-less all nighters to get things done.

For a second, time stood still. His eyes dimmed until they were nonexistent, and he could feel his bones begin to rattle. Some faraway recollection, more than a presence than anything tangible, hovered at the edges of his mind, making his magic twist uneasily in his bones. Sans felt like he was going to have a bad time.

 

The only reason Papyrus would be here is if he expected him to help team up against the human threat. And if his brother was that desperate, there was a good chance that they both may end up dust at the end of things. He only came to Sans when he was out of options, knowing that his magic prowess was the best in the underground, but he hated to risk his younger brother getting killed. While Papyrus never showed it, life without the smaller skeleton would be rather… lackluster. It was better to keep him on the sidelines, dealing with smaller tasks.

 

Sans’s thoughts shot to you, unbidden. Just because you were a human didn’t mean you were safe from this new hazard. What if they got past him and found you, trapped away in the shed? You wouldn’t stand a chance. He couldn’t bring you with him; that was even more dangerous, and his brother would know something was up if he tried to protect you.

 

There was no way he was letting you die.

 

* * *

 

 

A thick covering of dust shifted on Papyrus’s gloves, turning the red fabric a dull grey. From where you sat, it was easy to see the younger brothers absolute disgust. Huddling the thick jacket tighter around your form, you tried to piece together what was happening. They weren't trying to hide their conversation from you, which made you think it was a pretty fucking big deal. What did dusty gloves have to do with this new human?

 

In a flash, a memory surfaced - the first time you had peered out the shack window on one of your first nights. You had sworn it was a trick of the light, but when Grillby (you recognized it as him now) had killed the smaller monster, they had simply disintegrated. There wasn’t any body that you could see, and their clothes had remained in the snow, but there was no corpse; no blood. Your eyes widened in horror as you grasped the significance of just how much of the stuff coated Papyrus. It not only covered his hands, his entire outfit was dusted a light shade of grey that you had neglected to notice in the dim lighting of the restaurant. If monsters turned to dust when they died, you hated to think about how many it would take to leave such a layer on someone from just searching the crime scene.

 

You had come across several monsters on your way through the ruins, whom had all tried to attack you, but they had been fairly easy to outsmart and outrun. Except for that terrifying flower, most of the creatures were slow moving and had bullets that felt more like a 5 year old's attempt at a baseball throw. That meant the person doing this was intending to kill, and kill as many as possible. You shuddered and turned your focus back to the brothers.

 

“AS YOUR BROTHER, AND SUPERIOR, I AM ENLISTING YOU TO HELP CAPTURE THE THREAT USING ANY METHODS NECESSARY.”

 

His skull turned in your direction imperceptibly. He knew you were listening. Papyrus lowered his voice, something you hadn’t thought possible, until all you could hear was serious murmuring.

 

“This isn’t child’s play Sans. You’re powerful, and you know that, but you can’t afford to make another mistake with your HP levels. You got lucky that this human is more interested in boning you than maiming you, but this is different!”

 

You saw Sans’s cheekbones go bright red.

 

“ *w-who told you that? it was my fault - i wasn’t strong enough to res-”

 

Glowering, Papyrus put a finger to Sans’s mouth to cut him off. The sick look that crossed his features at the feeling of dust on his teeth was palpable, and he immediately stepped back.

 

“I’ve known the whole time you idiot. You come in reeking every couple of days, of magic and...other things, and don’t think I can’t hear you in that room of yours the nights you don’t go. Frankly, I don’t care what you do with her in the meantime before Undyne returns; you’re much more useful when you have a fucktoy, even if you have… questionable tastes.”

 

He straightened back up and turned to you, still shivering in the snow heap where he’d left you. You never did finish your burger, but as long as Grillby never found out, he didn’t care. Bad things happened to those that disrespected the bar owner. Grabbing a large handful of the back of your coat, he effortlessly lifted you and tossed you at Sans.

 

Caught off guard, he managed to catch you awkwardly, but tripped and fell on his tailbone with a curse. One of his flip flops flew off your foot and landed a ways away in the snow. Guess Paps was just letting him know that their little bonding moment had ended.

 

“GO PUT YOUR HUMAN AWAY AND MEET ME AT YOUR POST. THE MONSTER KILLER COULD ARRIVE ANY MINUTE.”

 

He spun with a flair of his tattered cape, swiftly clomping off to prepare for the oncoming battle.

 

Well… you hadn’t died, so things were already better than you hoped. You got off of Sans and held out a hand to help him up, which he pointedly ignored. He still looked mortified, and you wonder what Papyrus had told him to achieve such an effect.

 

The sobriety of the situation quickly settled between you. Some kind of… mass murderer - one of your own kind- was apparently on the loose, and the brothers were about to confront them.

 

“Will you be alright? Against them, I mean?”

 

Sans’s eye lights were dim, focused on the grey smears marring the snow. You could tell he was shaken, even if he was trying to hide it. Even the grin cemented on his face was tense, sharp teeth grinding slightly in effort to stay calm.

 

“ *i’ll be fine. With both me and paps on the job, they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

 

He didn’t seem quite confident. His boney hand clenched around yours, slightly tighter than it needed to be, and you felt the now familiar swirl of magic and the chilling temperature of the void. In moments, you were back inside of the shack. Sans reached inside of his pocket and pulled out the collar.

 

You sighed. Guess it was somewhat foolish to think things would change after some pretend date. Mechanically, you lifted your chin to give him better access as he fastened it around your neck. At least he left it at a more comfortable tightness than his brother did.

 

As his skull lingered next to your head while he worked, you made an impulsive move. Turning your head slightly to the side, you pressed your lips right above his brow in a chaste kiss. His hands, which had been working on reconnecting the chain, faltered. You waited for him to resume his task, but instead you heard a soft clink as he set the chain on the floor and straightened up.

 

He was staring into your eyes intensely, sockets wide and lights bright enough to cast a faint glow. His hands hovered awkwardly above your shoulders for a moment before he shoved them into his pockets.

 

“ *wait a few minutes, until things are clear alright?”

 

You stood next to the bed, confused, as Sans turned to leave. He was almost to the door when he paused, speaking at you without looking back.

 

“ *stay away from the capital. don’t let anyone see you, or they’ll bring you right to asgore. if  you need help, go see alphys in hotland - tell her you belong to me and she shouldn’t harm you. “

 

What… what was he saying?

 

“ * i can’t get ya back to the surface kid, but it’s not so bad down here, once ya get used to it. “

 

Was he letting you go?

 

“ *this way… even i don’t make it back… at least i know you’ll be safe.”

 

The door opened, and he walked out, letting it swing lightly behind him - unlocked.

 

“ *i’m sorry..”

 

Aren't you excited?

 

Aren't you happy?

  
  
You're going to be _free_.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry for the angst train though. Choo chooooo!


	13. L O V E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end.

You sat in stunned silence for a minute, hypnotically watching the door swing on it’s hinges. The glare of the snow outside hurt your eyes and the shack quickly became frigid as the warmth escaped. The leather of your collar was still warm from Sans’s pocket as you fingered the fabric absentmindedly.

 

Any second, he was going to realize his mistake. He was going to come back through that door and chain you back to the wall, or lock the door, or take you with him; anything that meant you would see his stupid face again. It was with that you realized just how listless your future seemed without his presence.

 

You had been a prisoner. From the second you’d met, he had hurt and used you for his own selfish needs. Your neck and body bore the faded scars from his abuse; but all the same, you had grown dependent. Over the course of the week, you had come to know a certain softness in his usually tense features that was reserved only for you. It was like for the short times he had spent with you, a weight was lifted from his ribs and his expressions were real - not the mask he wore to hide.

 

He probably didn’t even notice it himself, but you had. And you were drawn to it, like a moth to the light. You craved the warmth of his bones close to you, and the tingle of magic just underneath the surface. The light from his soul still resonated behind your eyelids, intoxicatingly beautiful and telling. Somehow, you had fallen head over heels for someone you hardly knew, with no choice in the matter.

 

And in some inexplicable way, he had done the same. He never intended to view you as anything more as a prisoner with some added benefits, but the more he interacted with you, the more intriguing you became. The way you seemed to blossom under only his company, and became an entirely different person. Still angry, still mistrusting; but under that also scared and curious and fragile.

 

He couldn’t see your soul, but whenever he was around you he could feel its pulse in your chest, strong and warm. He still wanted your soul, but not for Asgore. Sans wanted that unique feeling to be for only him. He wanted to protect it - protect you.

 

If freedom meant never seeing Sans again, you wanted no part of it. The surface world held nothing for you anyway, you had lived, truly lived, more in this tiny shack underground than in your twenty two years above ground.

 

Mind made up, you flipped up your hood and left the shack behind. Rage, simmering and strong, settled in the pit of your stomach and grew until it was a red hot coal in your chest. Sans and Papyrus needed a human soul, and they were going to get one. Shoving your hands roughly into the pockets of your borrowed jacket, you started off through snowdin, heading for the Ruins.

 

A human started this mess… and another was going to end it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Sans arrived at the sentry station, setting his face back into his cheerful mask, Papyrus was already prepared for battle. Bones were summoned and lined up behind the wooden post, for easy access. If it were possible for him to look even more tense than he did normally, he had achieved it. The older brother coughed to signal his arrival and crossed the clearing to stand beside his sibling, who acknowledged him with a terse nod.

“ *any news paps?”

 

“NO ONE YET. BUT I’VE BEEN HEARING THE SOUNDS OF A FIGHT RIGHT BEHIND THE DOOR FOR SOME TIME NOW.”

 

Sans listened closely, and confirmed the sounds of a scuffle just inside the ruins. Suddenly, there was a piercing cry, followed by an eerie silence. Toriel had fallen. Dust blew from underneath the door and spread across the clean snow before the world once again fell deathly still.

 

The seconds stretched by like years, waiting for the door to shift.

 

“ *hey papyrus?”

 

“SANS?”

 

“ *...I think... I loved her.”

 

Papyrus opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the grinding of stone against stone. The doors to the ruins were opening. Both brothers took a fighting stance, bone in hand and eyes blazing with magic. It was time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

From your hiding spot within the forest, you watched the doors open, body coiled like a predator ready to strike. Every nerve in your body was on fire, set alight with adrenaline.

 

A flash of green and yellow entered the edges of your vision, and you got your first look at the killer; the first human you had seen besides yourself since you had entered the Underground, and likely the last.

 

They were a child, not more than thirteen. Their brown hair, shoulder length, blew softly in the slight breeze from the ruins. As they surveyed their surroundings, you caught a glimpse of their face. They were androgynous, none of their features speaking to any one gender or another. But the most striking feature was their eyes, a crimson pool in the center of their iris. While their body was young, their face was that of someone who had lived beyond their years. There was a lack of emotion behind those eyes, a sadistic countenance that, coupled with the thick coating of dust on their skin and clothes, made you automatically recoil.

 

_Crunch_

 

They took a step forward. Cavelight caught on the knife gripped in their hand, reflecting on the snow.

 

_Crunch_

 

Another. You saw the brothers take a hesitant step back, and decided that it was now or never.

 

_Crunch_

 

The child dropped into an attack stance, a deranged grin splitting their face, knife pulled back to strike.

 

They never reached their target.

 

With an animalistic scream, you ran out from behind the tree line and tackled them to the ground. The element of surprise was on your side; they hadn’t noticed you hiding, focused on the brothers. Their high pitched cry was coupled with a sickening crack as their shoulder hit the hard packed snow.  

 

You saw a pulsing red light emanating from the child’s sternum, a heart shape appearing from beneath their clothes to hover closely in front of them. Its surface was unnerving, tones of burgundy sluggishly swirling on it’s surface like half clotted blood. It was marred by scratches and cracks.

 

You felt something sear your own skin between your breast, coming from inside of your skin. It hurt like hell, but at the same time you felt a surge of something more addictive than any drug; like cocaine mixed with pure adrenaline. A heart of similar shape, the color of a sunrise just cresting the horizon; a vibrant flame floated in front of you.

 

You were filled with **B R A V E R Y.**

 

They recovered quickly, and you felt the cold blade cut a thin line across your cheek, swung hastily in an effort to toss you. Your bigger form gave you an advantage, but they were fast, and the dust had a slippery talc like texture that made them hard to hold. They wriggled out from under you and you felt the bite of their dagger again, in your side this time. The cut was deep, blood running hotly down your feverish skin. With a cry, you struck out, nails catching on their skin and leaving four trails of sliced skin on their face.

 

You spotted the skeleton brothers in the corner of your vision, and the look on Sans face was striking. His eye sockets were wide and dark, and the look he was giving you resembled the one you had remembered him giving to Papyrus when he was threatened. He was scared of you.

 

It stung, but you shoved it deep inside of you and focused on the task in front of you, catching their small neck between your grasp and squeezing roughly. You called on all your anger; all your frustration; all your fear and fused them into raw intent to hurt. Your soul burned with LOVE. Another sharp pain registered in the back of your mind - the kid was slinging their knife across your stomach in a last desperate attempt at self-preservation. You felt a rush of liquid run down your front and coat the child beneath you, soaking into their sweater and smearing across their skin. You felt something hard under your leg and you grabbed at it. A mid sized rock; which fit perfectly in the palm of your blood slicked hand. With barely a second thought you carried it forward and with a wet thunk, smashed it into their skull.

 

You saw the light leave their eyes as they fell unconscious. You lifted the stone, preparing for the final strike when a gloved hand gripped your wrist painfully. Instinctively, you flung your head around, eyes wide, to see your assailant.

 

A feral growl died on your lips as you registered the form of Papyrus, looking warily down at you.

 

“THAT’S ENOUGH.” His normally steady voice shook slightly.

 

The rock dropped to the ground and you felt your soul disappear back into your chest, leaving you weary and in excruciating pain. You couldn’t let Sans see you like this; you thought as you wrenched your wrist out of Papyrus's grasp and tore out of the clearing back into the forest.

 

Running on the dredges of what adrenaline had fueled you, your only goal was to keep moving, mind hazy with blood loss. You could feel it leaving your body in large amounts, hissing hotly against the snow.

 

You honestly weren't sure what you were planning, past your goal to stop the murderer before they could hurt anyone else. Before they could hurt Sans. When you saw the cruel intent in their eyes, you had just snapped. It was like your body shifted into a hardwired stasis, bent on survival and the desire to protect. In that moment, you had wanted to rip their throat out with your teeth; to assault them until they were cold and still under your hands. You weren't any better than that other human. After seeing the look of fear on Sans's face, you knew that there was no way you could face him. How could he trust you? After all, you turned out to be just as dangerous as them.

 

Eventually you toppled to your knees, barely registering falling into the snow as you faded in and out of consciousness.

 

You welcomed the numbness that started in your fingertips and spread through your body.

 

Maybe it was better this way.

 

At least you didn’t hurt anymore.

 


	14. You Don't Have The Guts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go.

Sans joined his brother beside the body of the fallen child, still visibly trembling. Papyrus was kneeling, carefully avoiding the blood soaked snow as he checked the humans’ pulse. They were alive, but just barely. Summoning a bit of magic, he cuffed their hands with a couple modified rib bones. They couldn’t be too safe, considering how many monsters had perished by their hand. As long as he kept them alive until they reached the castle, Asgore could harvest their soul and contain it.

 

The sound of bone grating against bone was quickly getting on Papyrus’s nerves; already more than frazzled. Throwing the unconscious form of the human over their shoulder like a sack of crab apples, he turned to the shorter skeleton. The lights of his eyes were barely there, and his fingers were ceaselessly wringing against each other.

 

“ I’M GOING TO LOCK THE CHILD IN OUR SHED, UNTIL WE CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM TO ASGORE.”

 

He would be blind if he didn’t notice Sans’s eyes flicking towards the forest nervously. It was easy to tell that this was the last place he wanted to be right now.

 

“ THERE’S STILL ONE HUMAN ON THE LOOSE SANS. RETRIEVE THEM.”

 

Sans was gone before he had finished his sentence, teleporting as far as he could in the direction he had seen you go.

 

 

* * *

 

 

To say he was scared was a severe understatement. Even wracked with the need to track you down and make sure you were okay, he couldn’t shake the image of you crouched over the child, eyes filled with bloodlust. He never wanted to see you wear red again, after seeing you coated in a mixture of their blood and your own.

 

Had you been capable of this the whole time? Papyrus had warned him about the massive power of the human soul compared to monsters, but he had quickly forgotten your capabilities as he got to know you. Now Sans understood what he meant.

 

When your soul had come bursting through your chest, brighter than the core itself and the color of lava, he could feel the pure energy radiating from your body. But despite that... It was still you. Animalistic, Dangerous, Terrifying; but at the same time, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

You could’ve killed his brother then, with a single blow - but you didn’t.

 

Sans searched the woods frantically, letting out a frantic cry of worry when he recognized the scent of your blood, and found the trail you had left in the snow. The sheer amount of it unnerved him; it practically pooled on top of the oversaturated snow beneath it. The further he followed it, the lower his soul sank. There was so much.

 

The clash of orange against the snow was how he finally spotted you. His body froze, magic all but stopping it’s course through his bones. You were collapsed among the trees, more red than flesh colored and way too still. He didn’t trust his legs to carry him, so he teleported to your side, hands shaking as he turned you over.

 

At first glance, he was sure you were dead. Your face was as white as the snow, lips a chilling blue. Your entire torso was covered in a sticky red layer, coming from multiple wounds. His knowledge of humans was limited, but he was fairly sure he was seeing fleshy organs that were supposed to strictly remain inside your body. His eyelids clicked closed with resignation. He was too late. If only he had stepped in; and not been weak and scared, like always.

 

Papyrus had been courageous enough to approach you, but by then the damage had already been done.

 

He glanced around for your soul, which shouldn’t have gone far from your body upon death. Not seeing it anywhere, he took a closer look at you. Could it be?

 

His skull dropped close to your chest, keeping his body stock still as he waited with bated breath.

 

_Yes!_

 

It was weak, but he could hear your heartbeat, slow and rhythmic. His body slumped with relief, hands scrambling at your clothes. The mangled hoodie came off easily, and his sharp fingers easily ripped through the fabric of your shirt.

 

Sans swore to get her yet another set of new clothes if they made it out of this. Any style and color you wanted; he would find. Except red.

 

If he had a stomach, he likely would’ve lost his lunch then and there. The kid had done some serious damage; their knife had torn a ragged gash across your stomach, gutting you like a hunter would prepare his kill. Feeling faint, he tried to put everything back inside where it belonged. They were still warm.

 

Once you were all put together, he tried to call out to his magic. He had always been horrible at healing magic, but maybe..? Maybe if he just wanted it hard enough.

 

The particular streak of magic kept slipping out of his grasp, sparking off of his hands and landing uselessly on your skin.

 

“ *fuck. come on you useless excuse for a monster. why can’t you ever do anything right?!”

 

He kept trying, at most managing to close the wound a couple centimeters.

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

Footsteps behind him caused him to wheel around, shielding your prone form with his body. Papyrus looked at the disheveled mess of a skeleton before him, hands coated with gore and unnoticed tears streaking down his cheeks.

 

“STAND ASIDE SANS.”

 

He flinched, but stood his ground.

 

“ *n-no! she was protecting us!”

 

Covered with a good deal of blood himself, the tall imposing figure took another step toward them.

 

“SANS,  MOVE!”

 

His tone was harsh and threatening, reserved for those times that left Sans with aching bones and broken spirit. He felt his body tremor with memory, but still, he refused to move. Inconsolable, he bared his teeth at his younger brother.

 

“ *you have another soul now. this one is mine! you can’t have her! i don’t care what you do to me!”

 

“DAMMIT SANS I’M TR-”

 

“ * **d o n’ t  y o u  t o u c h  h e r.** ”

 

Papyrus closed the distance between them and forcefully flung his brother away from your body, jaws snapping irritably. He knelt beside you and tore off his gloves, throwing them to the snow beside him. His long sharp fingers started inspecting your body, red sparks flying from his fingertips and sinking into your cold skin.

 

From his landing place a few feet away, Sans pulled himself to his knees, cursing himself for not having the strength to protect you even from his own family. But when he looked back at the two of you, fearful of what he would see, he was rendered speechless. The gashes in your flesh were mending themselves, guided skillfully by Papyruses healing magic. He could see the color returning to your skin and the flush spreading over your cheeks. Once he was finished with your stomach, he started on your side, and then even the non life threatening gash on your face.

 

Unsteady legs carried Sans over to stand behind Papyrus, still silent with shock watching him work. After a few minutes, the leader of the royal guard deemed you stable, and got to his feet, tugging his leather gloves back over his hands. His dark eyes turned to glance down at his brother, a smirk tugging at the very edge of his jaws.

 

“SHE WILL LIVE. I AM ENTRUSTING THIS HUMAN TO YOU SANS, SHE WILL BE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.”

 

Slowly, Sans pieced together what Papyrus was awkwardly trying to say. In his own distant way, he was trying to show his support for his older brother. In the depths of his soul, Sans was tempted to start sobbing and grovel his thanks at his boots, but resisted, instead settling on giving his brother a slightly more genuine smile than usual.

 

“ *you got it paps. i won’t let her outta my sight.”

 

He gathered you up in his arms, revealing in how much warmer and more alive you felt in comparison to minutes ago. Your soul thrummed brightly from within your chest, drawing an even bigger smile on his features.

 

You were going to be alright.


	15. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been a long but amazing journey you guys. I couldn't have done this without your overpouring support and encouragement! I've read every comment, and appreciated every single watch and bookmark and kudos you guys have gifted me! 
> 
> It's been a pleasure! 
> 
> Now, if you, like me, are not quite ready to leave these two alone, I am planning on doing a few one shots. AND, if you may be interested, I am considering doing a prequel/ and or a sequel to "A Done Deal".
> 
> Anyway, thank you everyone again! I hope you enjoy the last chapter.

According to Sans, you slept for a solid week after your ordeal. Even if Papyrus had healed all of your physical wounds, he had said that it may take a while for you to recover from the mental trauma. With the human still locked in the shed, he had set you up in his bed, planning to take the couch until you woke up. That’s what he told you anyway.

 

In truth, he hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. After the first night, he had taken to sitting by your side almost constantly, sometimes falling asleep sprawled across the floor with his head resting on the mattress, close to your chest. He found the soft humming of your soul comforting; it meant that even though you looked dead, you were in there somewhere. While he trusted his brothers powers, every day that passed without a twitch from you increasingly concerned him.

 

Undyne had returned on the second day; she had come home earlier than planned after hearing about everything happening back in Snowdin and the Ruins. She was elated to see that the brothers had indeed captured the human, soul intact. They had woken up not long after the brothers put them in the shed, but now that they were weaponless, Undyne had no trouble wrangling them. Under Papyrus’s advice, he had stayed away from his room while the captain of the guard was there, as not to arouse suspicion. They may have the final soul they needed, but that didn’t mean humans were any more popular in the underground. Sans was positive that if Undyne found you, the chances of your waking up would drop to a sudden zero.

 

To his relief, the small human was very wiggly, and still somewhat murdery, so Undyne set off to the Capital not long after arriving. Sans let out a long breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. It was over.

 

He noticed Papyrus looking at him strangely, almost pensively. Giving his brother a grin, he chanced a look back towards the window to his room. He wanted to go check on you again, but waiting a bit longer would be safest.

 

“ *thanks for not ratting me out bro. i know how much you hate lying.”

 

The Great and Powerful Papyrus doesn’t blush.

 

“IT WAS NOT A LIE SANS. IT WAS AN OMISSION.” All the same, he looked pleased.

 

“I DID WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOUR HUMAN THOUGH, IN THE QUESTION OF WHERE THEY WERE TO STAY LONG TERM.”

 

He lifted a brow bone slightly at the term his brother had decided on. “His human” had a nice ring to it, and it meant a huge step for his human hating sibling. Thinking back on it, his idea to just… keep them in his room was a shitty one at best.

 

“ *what did you have in mind? she can’t just stay on the couch, and i swear if you are going to suggest keeping her in the shed I will….” There wasn’t really any threat he posed to Paps. “ *i will never pick up my clothes again.”

 

Youch.

 

Sans couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Papyrus actually laugh. It was truly a day of progress.

 

“WELL I WAS GOING TO SUGGEST THE SHED-”

 

Sans prepared to speak, but Papyrus held up a finger for silence.

 

“BUT NOT WITHOUT MAKING IT A BIT MORE… HABITABLE.”

 

He pondered it. He supposed that there wasn’t any reason that couldn’t work, but his lazy tendencies weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospects of hard labor. His expression must have given him away, because he felt his brothers heavy hand rest on his shoulder.

 

“I GUESS THIS WILL SUFFICE AS PUNISHMENT ENOUGH FOR … FALLING FOR… THE UNDERGROUNDS NUMBER ONE ENEMY.”

 

Although his jaw was screwed up in faux disgust, there was a joking twinkle in his eyes. It _was_ pretty crazy, wasn’t it?

 

“ *alright paps. let’s get started.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“ *ey! no peeking”

 

It was hard not to - his hands were big, but being made out of bone meant that there were a fair amount of gaps. You screwed your eyes shut and let him lead you out of the house and across the yard.

 

It had taken another few days for you to build up strength enough to be walking again; but finally you were as good as new. You would always have faint scars; a reminder of the things you’d done, but you kind of liked them. They reminded you that you were not the same person as you were a couple weeks ago.

 

You were no longer an abuse victim.

 

You were no longer a prisoner.

 

You weren’t scared.

 

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone.

 

The creaking of a familiar door brought you out of your thoughts. You feigned ignorance amusedly, not wanting to hurt their feelings. You had suspected the brothers would want their privacy back eventually, and Sans would appreciate being able to sleep in a bed. By now your back was used to the mattress in there anyway. You hoped that stupid child hadn’t gotten any of their gross blood on it.

 

“ *ok, you can look now!”

 

His lifted his hands from your eyes and rested his forearms on your shoulders, skull sitting gently on top of your head. He made a warm contented sound as he breathed in your scent.

 

“ *paps even helped. i can tell he’s really warming up to you. “

 

You were certainly surprised. For a second, you couldn’t recognize what used to be the shack that had held you captive. The floors had been cleaned and shone brightly, the center flourished with a large area rug. A new bed, with an actual frame this time, sat in the corner. There was a nice desk flush against another wall, next to a dresser for… well, you’d eventually have more clothes. A couple lamps gave the place a nice light, and a small but comfortable chair sat by the window. Things were fairly mismatched, but living underground, you imagined coming across furnishings was easier said than done. The place felt a lot more warm and inviting, meaning that they even went through the trouble of insulating it for your fragile human self.

 

You weren’t an emotional person, but you still felt your heart swell with gratitude. The sides of your mouth were strained in a huge grin that rivaled Sans. Your hand entangled with his skeletal one, making him tense slightly. He still wasn’t quite used to shows of affection, so this again, was a new thing for him. Not wanting to ruin the moment, you tried to let go, but he subtly tightened his grip.

 

“ *n-no. this is nice.”

 

You hummed in agreement.

 

“It’s amazing Sans. You guys did all this for me?”

 

His jaw pressed a bit harder into your scalp as he nodded. He had been a bit nervous, realizing that he sort of assumed that you had wanted to stay with him at all. Was it foolish to assume you had confronted the murderous child for his sake?

 

He still wasn’t entirely clear on why you liked him at all, being such a weak monster with a depressing social complex, but he sure wasn’t going to question a good thing.

 

“ *does this mean… you’ll stay?” With me? He wanted to add, but it hung unspoken in the air between them.

 

The corner of your mouth inched upward into a smirk.

 

“What’s in it for you?”

 

“ *huh?”

 

You tugged him the rest of the way into the shed and closed the door, turning until you were nestled into the hollow of his collarbone. Taking a hold of the tab of his jacket, you tugged it down just enough to access the smooth bone. He shivered as you pressed your lips to the warm surface. Ah.

 

“I know you, Sans the Skeleton. You’re going to want to arrange some kind of trade, right?”

 

He lifted a hand to his forehead in mock offense.

 

“ *you think so little of me!? i toiled over hot magic for days and this is the thanks i get?”

 

His expression settled into something a little more lustful and intimate; it was hard to ignore your attentions to his neck after all.

 

“ *but if you’re offering - name your terms human.”

 

“One, it’s not “Human”. It’s _____”

 

His eye lights brightened. Sans had been wondering for a while, but wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up.

 

“ *alright ____, what will you give me in return for my incredible hospitality?”

 

You elbowed him in the ribs, secretly glad you’d managed to land a guy with a sense of humor as amazing as yours.

 

“I’m being serious here! Now, I don’t really own much anymore. Hell, even this jacket I’m wearing is on loan from you. But…”

 

Sans leaned away from you, meeting your eyes with his bright specks.

 

“ *but?”

 

If he’d had a stomach, it would surely be full of a swarm of ravenous whimsun.

 

“I heard you were on the lookout for a human soul?” You gestured to the area you knew the bright orange heart rested. You felt your face turn a vibrant red, realizing how utterly stupid you sounded.

 

“It kind of needs to stay inside me, but.. since I’m sticking around anyway… I suppose you could… have it.”

 

His own monster soul was doing somersaults inside his ribs. There was no way she knew exactly what she was insinuating, but the message came across clear all the same.

 

It took him a couple of flustered minutes to work up the composure to speak, and when he did, it was only one word, whispered quietly between them like some shared secret.

 

“ *... _deal_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to get in touch with me, about the fic or anything else, my tumblr is here.
> 
> http://sinsational-sinnabon.tumblr.com


	16. Update: Special Christmas Short Planned for Later This Month!

Not sure how many people are still here since the writing of my fic “A Done Deal” reached it's conclusion, but if you are, then I have some pretty cool news!

A lot of comments on the final chapter seemed interested in a continuation, and while I can’t dedicate the time to a full sequel atm, I’m planning to bring back your favorite grumpy skeleton and our dear brave reader for a special christmas chapter! 

I really missed writing for them - they are so different than the current SansxReader I’m doing!! I'll be adding it to a Undertale Christmas Collection on A03, but I'll likely post on this story as well so everyone who follows A Done Deal will know where to find it!

Keep an eye out! <3


	17. Christmas Special! : A Gratifying Gyftmas

And it's up! A bit early, but I figure most of you are busy this time of year! This addition works as not only a christmas special, but also gives a little bit of insight as to what happens to our reader and the monsters following the conclusion of A Done Deal! 

You can find it added to the "Sans Signature" series, as well as in the "Undertale Holiday 2016 Fic Collection Challenge" where you can find a bunch of other UT goodness! 

Thank you everyone! <3 

This may not be the last of our brave reader and her pointy skeleton, but it should hold you over for now ahaha

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback guys! :)


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